


Make or Break

by Dark3Star



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Accidental Eavesdropping, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alfred Being an Asshole, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Building trust, Countries Using Human Names, Divorce (Kind of), Drunken Mistakes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FACE Family, Fluff and Angst, Gift Giving, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Human & Country Names Used, Love Triangles, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Matthew has a bad day, Moving On, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Pining, Polyamory, Rebuilding Trust, Recovery, Reunification, Romance, Romantic Tension, Slow Burn, Threesome - M/M/M, Wedding Dresses, allusions to suicide/self-harm, flirting with blueberry muffins, kitten rescue, new beginings, new relationships, reaching out for help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2018-11-15 01:29:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 164,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11220420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark3Star/pseuds/Dark3Star
Summary: When Matthew gave Alfred his heart, he never expected it to be broken. Unable to ignore the painful truth, Matthew breaks off his relationship with Alfred less than a year after their marriage. Love, however, isn't finished with Matthew. In less time than he thought possible, Matthew is confronted with a choice he never thought he'd have to make.





	1. Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the first chapter of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: The actions of the personified nations are not always a reflection of their people. They ARE their people, and they are also their own unique person in this story. I absolutely do not intend to insult a people or nation if I portray a character in a less than favorable way, I mean their actions here to be more a reflection of who their are individually while also being personified nations.

 

Matthew Williams lay on the edge of the king sized mattress, with Kumajirou curled up on his stomach. The miniature polar bear let out soft, contented noises as his owner's fingers gently rubbed his scalp. Matthew, meanwhile, was anything but pleased. He frowned and squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath in an effort not to cry.

Matthew could hear the raucous cries of his husband playing some stupid video game, two floors below him, in the large finished basement of the house. This was one of Alfred's houses; they were in Oregon at the moment.

It wasn't uncommon for personified nations to have more than one dwelling, depending on the size of their land, but Alfred was one of the few that had over fifty. There was one in every single state and territory. They weren't all houses-his New York apartment, for example- but they had _all_ started feeling very empty to Matthew.

He turned his head into the pillow, as much as his glasses would allow. He was looking away from the staircase that connected the first floor of this house to the second floor loft bedroom, trying to distance himself from the truth and the pain of his situation.

 _How had this happened?_ They'd only been married in October…just seven months ago... It wasn't as though they'd had a whirlwind romance. They'd been intending to marry for over a decade, and they'd been dating for over a century. Matthew had known, long before Alfred had ever taken an interest in him, that Alfred had his heart; he had always, _always_ loved his charismatic twin.

Twin, of course, wasn't truly accurate. Being personifications of countries meant that they had been brought forth by the spirit of their people, without an actual biological relation to any other country. However it was common for countries to form familial associations based on alliances and the near relations of their people. Alfred and Matthew were considered twins only because their corporeal bodies were similar, and their countries shared a border. The dynamic between them had always been close; they'd come into being at about the same time and spent much of their youth together.

Despite their similarities in appearance, Matthew and Alfred's personalities were very different. Everything seemed to come so easily to Alfred. He was always full of energy, and seemed to have the world at his feet. In all the time Matthew had known him, Alfred had never shown the outside world any fear or an ounce of hesitation. When he'd decided to fight for his independence he'd stepped into the battle without any apparent second thoughts.

Breaking away from Arthur had been an incredibly daring move; one that Matthew had not had the courage to join in. Alfred had been furious that he couldn't count Canada as his ally, and had sworn up and down that he would never speak to Matthew again.

Matthew had been crushed, but it didn't change his plans. He organized a secret and very unofficial group of spies to assist with the American Revolution, a group so secret that not even Alfred knew about them. Matthew had longed to tell Alfred so many times, ached to mend the rift that had opened between them, but absolutely secrecy was necessary to maximize the safety and efficiency of his operatives.

Even now, centuries later, Alfred had no idea what Matthew had done. It hadn't been a political move, it had been a deeply personal one. As much as his isolation from Alfred had hurt, Matthew hadn't done what he'd done for recognition; he'd done it out of love, and out of a desperate fear for Alfred's safety. Matthew wasn't vain enough to think his operatives had been integral to Alfred winning the war, but they _had_ helped. They had been Matthew's secret voice when politics had stayed his hand.

Alfred hadn't talked to Matthew again, on a personal level, until July 4th, 1876. Matthew had come for the celebration of the United States of America's Independence Day. There were formal, more political events earlier in the day, but as night crept in people started to crowd around a large bonfire that had been built specifically for this celebration. Matthew had managed to edge his way through the crowd until he was by Alfred's side. Alfred was whooping and hollering with the rest of his people, but when Matthew tapped him on the shoulder, he turned, and his face fell.

" _Congratulations, Alfred_ ," Matthew murmured, pressing a small parcel into Alfred's hand.

Alfred glanced down at the parcel, then back up at Matthew. " _What's this?_ "

Matthew hoped the firelight would excuse the sudden flush in his cheeks. " _It's a gift. I had it made for you_."

Alfred glanced down at the parcel in his hand and quickly tore away the packaging, as reckless and energetic as ever. Inside was a medium sized hunting knife with an ornate eagle carved into the handle. Alfred turned the knife over and over in his hands before pulling it out from its sheathe to examine it. Despite its decoration, it was a sturdy, functional weapon. Alfred smiled softly, and slipped the knife back into its sheathe before attaching it to his belt. Then he lifted his gaze back to Matthew. " _Thank you, Canada. I accept your gift_."

Matthew's face crumpled so quickly that Alfred frowned. " _What? What is it?_ "

" _I-It's not a gift from one country to another_ ," Matthew stuttered, struggling, and partly failing to keep his breathing even. " _I…I meant it as a gift from_ _**me**_ …" Matthew looked away for a moment, willing away unshed tears. He hadn't expected miracles from one gift, but this was far from the first time he'd tried to make amends and _all_ of his efforts had been casually, effortlessly brushed aside. He was starting to wonder his relationship with Alfred would ever be what it once was… he couldn't dare to hope for more after so much bad blood…

A splash of white appeared before him and Matthew blinked until he could focus on the handkerchief that Alfred was offering him. Matthew's gaze traced back from the handkerchief, up Alfred's arm to his face.

" _Don't cry, Mattie_." Alfred's voice was warm and soft in a way Matthew hadn't heard for _so_ long

He sniffled as he took the handkerchief. " _Thank you_ …"

Alfred smiled and ruffled his hair, before lifting his face to the sky and joining his people in cries of celebration once more.

Things had gotten better after that. So much so that when Matthew joined Alfred in New York on New Year's Eve in 1919, he'd come dressed as a woman. Countries, being a personification of their people as well as having many human qualities, _could_ shift between male and female appearance. Most countries chose to present as male because this was a reflection of the people in their country who held power. Power, however, shifted, and as such personifications of countries had the ability to shift with them. Arthur had spent much of Queen Elizabeth I and Queen Victoria's reign in his female form: Alice.

Matthew used the name Madeline when he was in his female form, but that form was rather…busty. Nowhere near as much as Ukraine, no one could rival her, but it was still enough that Matthew had female clothes for Madeline when he needed to adopt a female form for political reasons, and female clothes that would fit his male form when he was allowed to prioritize his personal comfort. Alfred had often joked that Matthew made up for his small physical stature with his ample endowments when he was Madeline.

Because all personifications were effectively gender fluid, they were never personally against relationships with each other, or a human of any gender. Nor was it considered at all odd for a personification of a country to wear masculine or feminine clothing regardless of their current form. They were times when personified nations were forced to guide and support their people politically, due to very strong opinions humans had on these topics, but there was a separation between a country's political duties and their personal life. Life as a personified nation, existing somewhere between being a country and a human, was never easy.

Matthew chose to come to Alfred's New Year's Eve party in 1919 dressed as a woman because he had finally worked up the nerve to do something about his feelings for Alfred, and he didn't wish to complicate the moment with any strong reactions the humans present may have had about a presumably homosexual relationship.

Alfred had greeted Matthew warmly, and without any concerns about Matthew's apparel, other than to compliment him on his general appearance. Alfred had seen Matthew in all his forms and Matthew had seen Alfred's male and his female form, Amelia.

Matthew had struggled with himself all evening, and had consumed more alcohol than was wise, but he never quite found the words. At last, when the countdown to midnight began, Matthew found himself moving towards Alfred. When the first cheers erupted, welcoming in the New Year and the new century, Matthew pulled Alfred down into a wet, desperate kiss that went well past the boundaries of _friendly_.

Alfred had responded at first, but stiffened when he felt Matthew's tongue press into his mouth. Matthew had almost decided to pull back, when Alfred's arms tightened around him and Alfred began to reciprocate the kiss in earnest.

Romantic relationships were never easy for countries. Humans, no matter how much one loved them, died. Not to mention the fact that it was highly irregular for anyone besides a countries' leader, or boss, to even know that personified countries existed. And then one had to consider that other personified countries had responsibilities of their own to attend to that could not be ignored. Cohabitation was impossible. There could be long visits, especially if the two countries shared a border, but political responsibilities took countries to many different locations within their own land and abroad, and not always on the same schedule. Matthew had endured many lonely nights secure in the knowledge that Alfred loved him, and that was enough.

Matthew's devotion never wavered as the years went by. It killed him to see how the Great Depression ravaged Alfred's mind and body... it was almost like Alfred wasn't even there when he was standing right in front of Matthew. Eventually Alfred and his nation recovered, only to be launched into a period of two world wars. Matthew had supported Alfred and the Allies to the fullest extent possible, believing that there _would_ be peace again one day.

As the turn of the century approached Matthew and Alfred began to discuss marriage. Personal relationships between countries required no formal paperwork; paperwork was for official alliances. As such, any personal marriages didn't require a license. There didn't even need to be a ceremony, unless the countries concerned wanted there to be one. Matthew wasn't pretentious, vein, or focused on worldly possession, but he very much wanted there to be a ceremony. He wanted to celebrate his relationship with Alfred in front of their 'family' and friends.

The attacks on Alfred's world trade centers on September 11th, 2001 put an end to all talk of marriage for some time. Alfred's country needed him, and he needed to be there for them. Matthew understood this, and he'd done his best to support Alfred, just as he always had, even if they spent almost no time together for over a decade. Alfred and he were personified countries, of course Matthew couldn't be Alfred's first priority… but as the years passed Matthew began to wonder if he was a priority _at all_ …if Alfred even wanted him…

When Alfred finally proposed it was a complete surprise. They'd gone out to dinner with Francis and Arthur and, unfortunately, they'd been seated at a table close to a noisy kitchen. It was a nice enough restaurant, but not formal. No dress code aside from the usual shirt and shoes required. The _last_ thing Matthew expected had been a proposal, even though Alfred had stubbornly insisted on wearing dress pants and a pressed oxford button up shirt, a task he normally reviled. Matthew had been confused when Alfred stood, then confused and flustered when he dropped to one knee. Of course Matthew had said yes, and he was grateful, he really was…

Matthew _had_ felt some disappointment and resentment, but he told himself he was being foolish. Yes, Alfred _could_ have proposed sooner, but he'd had other things to attend to. The important point was that Alfred _had_ proposed, that he did want to share his life with Matthew, as much as was possible.

After the proposal Matthew had thrown all his energy and focus into planning the ceremony. He'd drafted, ordered, and sent every announcement and invitation. Matthew had made all the arrangements with every vendor that would service the wedding himself. Alfred had offered his input, naturally, but Matthew had completed the majority of the actual tasks. Alfred's main solo task was to secure the music for the reception, which he did do…the night before.

Matthew had decided to wear a dress to the ceremony, but due to scheduling conflicts with Francis and Arthur he'd gone to select his wedding dress alone. It was a small inconvenience, nothing more. The staff at the bridal salon had been very helpful.

It had been a beautiful ceremony, but now it was over. Maybe that was the problem. There was nothing left to distract Matthew from the reality that he _still_ didn't seem to be any sort of priority in Alfred's life…

Alfred's sharp cackle split the air again, spurring Matthew into action. He loved Alfred desperately, but this…this wasn't healthy. Matthew gently set Kumajirou down in the soft covers of the bed and walked towards the closet. He pulled out his suitcase, carried it back to the bed, and laid it down on the portion of the bed Kumajirou wasn't using.

Kumajirou had been almost asleep, but this sudden activity seemed to rouse him. He stood, stretched and shook himself before walking forward a few steps to peer over the edge of Matthew's suitcase. "We're leaving?"

"Yes, Kuma," Matthew confirmed, neatly shoving item after item into the suitcase. "We're leaving."

"Oh." Kumajirou sat back on his haunches and began to lick himself. Although he could speak, Kumajirou was still very much an animal. Many things that mattered to a human, or even a personified country, didn't really bother him. He didn't like seeing Matthew upset, but now was not a time for comforting. He'd offered comfort and now Matthew was acting. The best thing to do was to sit back and let it happen. Kumajirou and Matthew had been together since the beginning, and Kumajirou had no doubts that Matthew would keep him safe and well cared for. He always had.

Matthew wanted to be surprised about how easy it was to sneak out of the house, but he wasn't. He hadn't been loud, but one can only be so quiet when trying to pack as many possessions as one could in short order. Alfred never once called out to ask what was going on, too intent on the videogame in front of him.

Matthew ordered a cab and purchased a last minute ticket for a red eye flight to Paris, leaving tonight. He hoped Francis would let him visit for a while, but he didn't dare call and ask until he was out of the house, he needed to keep it together. If Francis wasn't inclined to host unexpected guests at the moment, he would get a room somewhere. Being _away_ from Alfred mattered more _right now_ then who Matthew stayed with.

Matthew saw the lights of his cab pull into the driveway. He hesitated for a moment before ripping off his wedding ring and tossing it down on the dining room table. It had meant so much to him at one point that he'd never taken it off, but now it just felt like a cruel joke. The worst part was that he doubted Alfred would understand the significance of that small metal band when he saw it.

Hefting Kumajirou in one hand and his suitcase in the other, Matthew went out to meet the cab. Kumajirou was used to traveling and, like Matthew, he could be easily overlooked if he wanted to be. Most humans didn't even remember seeing him, or if they did, they thought he was a stuffed animal.

Matthew waited until he was checked in and had made it to the other side of airport security before he called Francis. He picked up on the third ring.

"Oui? Who is this?"

Matthew's chest clenched painfully. His natural shyness combined with his ability to go unnoticed when he chose had resulted in a joke by the other countries where they would pretend not to know who Matthew was. It had never been Matthew's favorite joke, but now it was beyond intolerable. "Not now, papa, s'il vous plaît," Matthew murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears.

Francis paused on the other end of the line. "Mattiue? What is wrong?"

Matthew took a steadying breath. "Can...can I come and stay with you for a while?"

Francis' voice was warm, soft, and concerned. "Of course, Mattiue. When are you coming?"

"Now," Matthew replied immediately. "I'd like to come now." Matthew quickly provided the details of his flight and which Francis dutifully wrote down with a promise to collect Matthew at the Paris airport once his plane touched down.

Half an hour later Matthew was watching out the window as the plan pulled away from the terminal. It wouldn't be long now until they were in the air and thousands of miles away. Away was good. Away was safe. Maybe if he went far enough he could pretend it might not be _days_ before Alfred even realized that he had left…


	2. Refuge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hardest thing, is trying not to think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story.

Chapter 2: Refuge

 

Matthew hated flying. It wasn't that he was afraid of heights, or that he feared the plane might crash. He just couldn't stand the _exhaustion_. Matthew had never been able to sleep on a plane, no matter how long the flight was, and this flight had been over _twelve hours_. He knew there were longer flights, especially if one had to transfer or cope with delays, but right now he didn't care. He was clammy and freezing at the same time, another exasperating but unavoidable part of flying, at least for Matthew. He needed a long hot shower and days of sleep before he could even begin to feel normal again...

Matthew bit back a sardonic laugh. As if he'd be _able_ to sleep. _Breathing_ was painful enough, thinking would be _intolerable_. There was no way Matthew could endure lying still and quiet with his thoughts right now, even if he had Kumajiro for company. He glanced down at the small polar bear in his arms, curled up and fast asleep against his chest. At least _someone_ could sleep.

Matthew moved through the river of people following the signs to baggage claim. As Matthew hefted his own red suitcase off the rotating metal belt, Kumajiro began to stir. "Hungry..."

A tentative smile crept over Matthew's features and he pressed a kiss into Kumajiro's white fur. Kumajiro let out a grumpy wine in protest. Neither of them were morning people. "We'll be with Francis soon, and then we can eat." Kumajiro grumbled softly, stretching in the cradle of Matthew's arms before settling down once more.

Francis was waiting for them just on the other side of airport security with a welcoming smile and a large bouquet of red iris flowers. A slight smile returned to Matthew's face. Francis was always a gracious host, and made a point of making his guests feel special, especially those he considered 'family'. The iris was France's national flower, and he had gone through the trouble of selecting red ones out of respect for Matthew's national colors. Mathew was pleased and flattered that Francis had taken the time to be so thoughtful on such short notice. He'd had plenty of examples of how thoughtless _other people_ could be...

 _"Alfred,_ _**where** _ _are you?!"_

_"At home, dude. Where are you?"_

_"At the airport! My plan landed an_ _**hour** _ _ago. You were going to pick me up, remember?... Alfred?...Alfred!"_

_"What? Sorry. I'm just trying to beat the final boss. Dude you wouldn't believe how hard he is to beat. I'll get him though, a hero never gives up!"_

_"_ _**Fine** _ _. I'll just take a cab..._ _**again** _ _... Alfred?"_

_"Ha! Take that, spawn of darkness!"_

Matthew gave himself a sharp mental shake, forcing himself to focus on the person in front of him, not the person he'd left behind. "Bonjour, papa. Je vous remercie de m'avoir rencontré."

Francis pulled Matthew into a tight embrace. "Bienvenue, Matthieu. How was your flight?" Kumajiro let out a soft growl of protest and Francis pulled back a little, chuckling.

Matthew shrugged. "It was good." It _hadn't_ been good, but Matthew didn't want to talk about his flight, or his reason for coming. He didn't really want to talk about anything. Thankfully Francis didn't seem to need Matthew to talk right now. He just wrapped his arm around Matthew's shoulders and started moving towards the exit.

"I have a car waiting for us," Francis began. "There is a _lovely_ new bistro in town. I cannot wait to show you."

Matthew did his best to smile and nod. He didn't really feel like grabbing food right now, especially not food out, but he wasn't about to protest. That would've been rude when Francis was doing him such a tremendous favor.

Thankfully the ride was short. Within twenty minutes Matthew and Francis were seated in a cozy little table in a bistro with dark wooden furniture, a roaring fire, and rows upon rows of delectable looking pastries. Francis ordered for them. Two coffee's one black, one with cream and two sugars. Francis also ordered a baguette and cheese plate for himself, a plate of eggs and salmon for Kumajiro (whom the staff had mistaken for a dog), and a small plate of fruit and cheese with a chocolate hazelnut croissant for Matthew.

Matthew ate in silence trying, and failing to keep up with Francis's soft and jovial train of conversation. Francis, bless him, never once asked Matthew a question, or demanded his participation in any way.

When Matthew had finished his food and his coffee Francis scooped up a full and compliant Kumajiro, paid their tab, and ushered Matthew back out to the car. It was a dull rainy day, and Matthew watched the buildings pass by in a blur as they sped onward to Francis's two story Paris apartment.

Matthew had seen Francis's home throughout the centuries, and while the location and the type of home sometimes had to change, Matthew had always found staying with Francis comforting. It was like a home away from home. Matthew closed his eyes and he must have dozed for a moment because the next time he was aware, Francis was just putting the car into park. Matthew yawned and stretched before lifting Kumajiro out of the car. Francis, meanwhile, already had Matthew's bag and insisted on carrying it for the short walk to his front door.

Francis' current apartment had plush elegant furniture, many of the pieces were antique. The walls were covered in soft white wallpaper with a delicate rose pattern.

Francis showed Matthew to his guest bedroom, furnished with more solid antiques and light blue walls. Matthew set his suitcase on the bed with a small sigh of relief, before turning back to Francis, who was lingering in the doorway. "Thank you for having me, papa. I apologize for the short notice."

"It is no trouble at all, I assure you," Francis replied with a generous smile. "I will leave you to unpack."

Matthew nodded and turned back to his luggage. He'd stayed with Francis many times before, in many different incarnations of his home, so it was easy to find a place for all of his things. Matthew had brought enough that he could stay for as long as he chose. His own bosses tended to be laid back, so it would be no hardship for him to work abroad... that was actually why he'd spent so much of his time with Alfred, at Alfred's homes. Matthew had no idea how long he was going to stay, but that was a worry for another day. Right now he just wanted to settle in and lick his wounds... he'd been so _foolish..._

Just as Matthew was putting his empty suitcase in the small closet his room offered, Francis returned with the red iris flowers in an intricate crystal vase. He set them down on the small cabinet beside the bed, gently adjusting the arrangment.

"Thank you for the flowers, papa. They're beautiful," Matthew murmured, turning around and shutting the closet door behind him.

Francis winked at Matthew and said, "You're welcome, Mattiue. I know it can be a long journey to come visit, though not as long as it once was."

"Yeah," Matthew agreed, staring at the flowers. He was immensely grateful for the technology humans had created which shortened both his personal and political travel time. He'd needed to get away so badly that even the plane he'd taken wasn't quite fast enough.

"I have a bath waiting for you," Francis continued. "I am sure you'll want to freshen up."

"Thank you, papa. You didn't have to," Matthew replied, his shoulders sagging with relief at the thought of the warm water awaiting him.

Francis crossed the distance between them and pressed a comforting kiss against Matthew's temple. "Ah, but I did, Matthieu." Francis squeezed Matthew's shoulders in a half hug and added. "I thought we could watch a movie when you are finished. How does that sound?"

Matthew smiled weakly and leaned against Francis for a moment. "That sounds nice." Matthew's throat felt tight. Francis was smart and observant. He would know that Matthew's bare fingers were significant. He had to have pieced together the majority of the important details by now. Matthew had always been very reserved, but he didn't mind Francis knowing. Francis would be the last person to judge him, even if he didn't have his own rocky history with love, and Matthew was beyond grateful for the support he was offering.

Francis gave Matthew one last squeeze before he pulled back. "Take your time," Francis murmured, before making his way out of the room. Matthew watched him go before turning to the pale wooden dresser for a comfortable change of clothes to wear after his bath. He selected a pair of gray sweatpants, a large red t-shirt, and thick white socks. It was only a month into spring, and the weather here would be prone to shifts between warm and inviting, or cold and rainy like it was at the moment.

Matthew walked down the short, narrow hallway to the bathroom and saw that the tub was indeed full of steaming, sudsy water, and several thick towels had been set aside for his use. Matthew shed his clothing and slipped into the hot water with a sigh of bliss. If he hadn't known Francis was waiting for him downstairs, Matthew would have been tempted to lounge in the tub all day... but this was for the best. He didn't really want to be left alone with his own thoughts too long.

After a soak that was long enough to be satisfying, but not so long that the water turned cold, Matthew dried and dressed himself, hung up his towels to dry, and deposited his dirty clothes in the hamper in his bedroom. The other end of the narrow hallway led to a sweeping staircase which descended to the small foyer on the first floor. Just past the foyer were two wooden doors with stained glass arches towards the top. Matthew pulled open one of the doors and stepped inside Francis's living room. There floors were polished wood with a thick rug near the sofa, which was facing the currently active fireplace. Francis was sitting on one end of the sofa with a book in his hand. He turned as Matthew entered.

"Ah, Matthieu, good timing. Come, sit, the movie is ready, and I have some hot chocolate here for you."

Francis was exploiting Matthew's sweet tooth, and Matthew didn't care. He padded over to the sofa and, once he was seated beside Francis, gratefully lifted the cup to his lips. Francis had a cup beside him as well, coffee if the scent was anything to go by. Matthew tucked his legs underneath him and lifted his gaze to the large flat screen television mounted above the fireplace. Francis reached forward and lifted the remote, pressing play.

It was an old rendition of Beauty and the Beast, Matthew's favorite story. Unlike so many other human fairy tales, this was actually based in fact...but the historical ending wasn't quite as peaceful as the one often portrayed in books and film. Matthew was a diehard romantic, and he much preferred the happier ending.

As the movie played Matthew finished his hot chocolate. When the fatigue of his travels began to catch up with him, he rested his head on Francis's shoulder, eventually shifting so that his head was pillowed in Francis's lap. Francis allowed and even welcomed this, looping an arm around Matthew's waist as he struggled to relax and find sleep. At last, just minutes before the credits rolled, Matthew's eyes fluttered shut and his breathing became deep and even. He did not, however, look restful. He slept with a frown etched into his features.

Francis sighed and gently ran his fingers through Matthew's blond hair, no quite as long as his own. "Ah, Matthieu, what has happened to you?"

Matthew shifted slightly in his sleep, pressing closer to Francis, but did not answer. Francis knew Matthew wouldn't be likely to answer even if he was awake. The pain in his eyes was too fresh, too raw. Francis had seen that expression in the mirror a time or two. He'd also seen it on Arthur's lovely face. It was impossible, but he would have spared them both knowing this pain if he could. It was one of Francis's deepest shames, as far as he was considered, that he had put this same heartbroken expression on Arthur's face, more than once.

Twenty minutes after Francis had shut off the television his front door opened and closed. It was a quiet sound, same as the soft creak of the door that followed moments later. Francis turned his head and met Arthur's tired smile with one of his own.

"Bienvenue, cher," Francis murmured, leaning back slightly as Arthur approached.

Arthur pressed a hand on Francis's shoulder and bent down to kiss him. It was a short, chaste kiss of mutual support.

"How is he?" Arthur asked, as soon as they parted, looking down on Matthew's sleeping face.

"He is in pain," Francis replied, squeezing Matthew's left hand gently, and lifting it so that Arthur could see. "I think Alfred has done something truly foolish this time."

Arthur's expression darkened for a moment, then softened. "This is going to be a god awful mess."

"Love always is, cher," Francis replied softly, placing Matthew's hand back down, and then lifting his own to caress the side of Arthur's cheek. "That does not mean it is not worth it."

Arthur smiled softly and leaned his head against Francis's. They were no strangers to rocky relationships, having been involved in one of the longest on and off relationships on record. It wasn't something either of them were proud of, but they were both grateful that they were together, and that they had, more or less, never stopped fighting to be together. There had been angry words, and so many long years at war, barely speaking to each other. They'd both seen other people. Most notably Francis's affair with Jeanne d'Arc, and Arthur's secret marriage to Queen Elizabeth I. Still, no matter the history between them, both nations always, _always_ came back to each other. Eventually they learned to stop fighting each other and fight for their relationship instead.

Francis knew, better than most, that relationships with other countries were always compounded by politics, but he'd never stopped believing that two personified countries could preserve a personal relationship if they fought hard enough, regardless of the politics between them. Arthur was a bit less romantic, but he still blushed when Francis told him he loved him.

"He will be glad that you came," Francis murmured. "Embarrassed too, but glad."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," Arthur replied, squeezing Francis in his arms in a partial hug.

Francis leaned back into his longtime lover as much as the sofa would allow, and sighed contentedly. Arthur's loyalty had always been above reproach, a fact Francis was forever grateful for. It had taken them both more time than was reasonable, but Francis and Arthur had found their happiness together. Now Francis hoped they could use that strength to help and support Matthew through his heartbreak.

Francis couldn't know the details, but he'd always been able to recognize heartbreak when he saw it. Matthew was hurting now and, in all likelihood, Alfred would be hurting just as soon as he realized what he might have lost. Matthew was very loving and forgiving, but the fact that he had shown up on short notice without his wedding ring showed that it might already be too late…


	3. Piercing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't run from the truth, no matter how painful it is...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. Special thanks goes out to everyone who left comments, kudos, bookmarked and/or subscribed to my story! Your support and encouragement is very much appreciated; I hope you enjoy!

 

Chapter 3 :  Piercing

 

Bright. Everything was too bright. And much too sunny. Matthew squinted in the early morning light, cursing spring and everything pastel. Normally Matthew liked spring. In centuries past, spring had been absolutely necessary for survival, but this didn't feel like spring. Everything felt cold, flat, and empty. Matthew knew it wasn't true, but the warm sunlight beating on the curtains of Francis's guest bedroom felt like a lie. Matthew stretched and sighed, wondering if it would even be worth it to get out of bed today.

The low murmur of conversation and the slight clatter of dishes being laid out reached his ears. At first Matthew was confused, then he remembered that Arthur had come to visit. Matthew pulled the sheets over his head with a small groan. There was only two reasons for Arthur to be here. Either he and Francis had planned to visit, in which case Matthew was intruding, or he'd come just because of Matthew, fulfilling the burden of their long and continued association. Matthew didn't want to be a burden... and he certainly didn't want to be in the way…

Neither Francis, nor Arthur, had asked Matthew about anything. They hadn't even alluded to what must have been obvious, but Matthew still saw the questions glittering in their eyes… Matthew seriously contemplated just rolling over and going back to sleep…but he knew Francis would only find a way to move breakfast into his guest room if Matthew tried to avoid it.

Matthew heaved himself up into a sitting position, pulled on his glasses, and trudged to the bathroom for his morning absolutions. He groaned again when he saw himself in the mirror. He was pale, his hair disheveled, and his eyes still looked bruised, despite all the sleep he'd just gotten. Matthew wasn't particularly vain, but he couldn't deny he looked almost as bad as he felt.

With an inner resolve he usually reserved for war, Matthew washed his face, brushed his teeth, and relived himself. Then he beat his hair into submission with a comb and some liberal application of water from the bathroom sink. Finally, Matthew returned to his room, pulled on a fresh pair of jeans, socks, black converse trainers, a black t-shirt, and a red flannel shirt which he left unbuttoned. Thus armored, Matthew descended the stairs and followed the faint noises of conversation down a narrow hallway, through Francis's impressive kitchen, and out onto the small veranda. Vines grew thick along the wall of the adjacent building, and Francis kept several robust potted plants, creating the illusion that his veranda was tucked away near a garden. Francis and Arthur were seated at the iron and glasswork table that was crowded with tea, coffee, fruit, cheese, pastries, some dried sausages, and hardboiled eggs. They both looked up and smiled in greeting when Matthew entered. Kumajiro was there too, eating with gusto from a plate that had been set on the ground for him.

"Bonjour, Matthieu," Francis greeted him, gesturing that Matthew should join them. "Did you sleep well?"

"Good day Matthew," Arthur nodded, raising his tea cup in lieu of a wave. "Will you join us for breakfast?"

Matthew smiled timidly and took his seat at the empty place setting. "Merci, papa. I slept very well." ...If one could call an exhaustion induced coma restful. Still, Matthew didn't want to worry them. He nodded to Arthur next and forced a small smile on his face. "Good morning, Arthur. I'm not very hungry, but I'll eat what I can."

"You know Francis, he'll cook for an army even if he's the only one eating." Arthur paused to take a long sip of his tea. "I've given up trying to get him to see reason."

"Excusez-moi," Francis replied, looking archly over at Arthur, who looked back with a pleased and smug expression.

Arthur wasn't contrite in the slightest. Instead he was calm and poised as he sipped his tea, then replied, "You heard me, frog."

Arthur and Francis shared a charged look before breaking off in a small fit of laughter. Matthew chuckled and reached for a bunch of grapes, just to have something to do with his hands. He glanced up at Francis and Arthur, who were now smiling sweetly at each other, and a sharp pang of jealousy shot through him. Matthew knew, better than most, that their happiness had been hard won. They had worked for it, and they deserved it. That happiness, however, only seemed to highlight his own situation, and Matthew felt stupidly resentful of the reminder.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding on your time together," Matthew murmured, ducking his head guiltily. "I didn't really plan this trip very well."

"It's always a pleasure to see you, my boy," Arthur replied, although the glance that passed between himself and Francis was not lost on Matthew. "I was going to drop by in a few weeks, take a break before the summer conferences start. It was no trouble at all to get away early."

"You work too hard anyway, mon amour," Francis cooed, blowing a kiss at Arthur.

Arthur's warm smile belied the sting of his next words. "hm And you don't work enough."

"Non, that is not true. I have a video conference just after breakfast," Francis assured him.

"Ah, is that why your computer is making that pinging sound?" Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"What?" Francis asked, craning his head towards the window of his study. Indeed there was a distinct pinging sound. Francis frowned and looked down at his watch, then stood abruptly. "Merde!" Francis leapt around the table and dashed inside, a steam of excuses tumbling out of his mouth in both French and English.

Arthur chuckled softly, drawing Matthew's attention back to him. "He never could keep to a proper schedule." Arthur's words were scolding, but his tone was fond, and Matthew felt jealousy rise in him again.

"Is there anything in particular you'd like to do while you're here?" Arthur asked, setting down his tea cup and reaching for a scone.

Matthew looked up guiltily. "No, I haven't really thought about it," Matthew replied in a small, quiet voice.

Arthur nodded and poured himself more tea, stirring it gently after adding a splash of milk. "If anything comes to mind, don't hesitate to tell Francis. You know how he loves to show off."

Matthew's lips quirked in an attempted smile and he nodded. "Thank you, I will."

The light glinted off of Arthur's wedding band as he set his teacup down. It was gold, traditional, and completely unadorned. Matthew was just considering making his excuses and heading back upstairs, when Arthur spoke again. "I've been thinking about something for a while, Matthew. Something I've never told you, and I think I should have, a long time ago."

Matthew tensed in his seat, holding his breath as if waiting for a physical blow. He didn't want to get into it. Not now, maybe not ever, but especially not now. Whatever Arthur was about to tell him, Matthew was dead certain it was something to do with Alfred, or his relationship with Alfred. It was a relationship which Arthur had never completely approved of, and Matthew was _not_ ready to go there.

"You're very brave, Matthew."

The air left Matthew's lungs in a rush and he squeaked out a small, "W-what?"

Arthur smiled at him, and leaned forward to place his hand over Matthew's in a comforting gesture. "I said you're very brave. I don't think you really get enough credit for it, but you are. Do you remember Elizabeth?"

Matthew blinked, shook his head, and swallowed. "I..um..who?"

"Elizabeth Cole," Arthur clarified. "She did some work for you around…oh 1782."

Matthew frowned in thought for a moment, trying to resurrect the memory of this woman…Elizabeth Cole. When the memory surfaced, Matthew paled.

No.

Not _that_ Elizabeth. She had been one of his few operatives during the revolutionary war that had spied and smuggled supplies into the United State of America… _How_ could Arthur have known about her? _Did_ he really know about her, and what she and those few trusted others had done? Impossible. They'd all survived the war, every last one of them, and no one, as far as Matthew knew, had ever been the wiser.

"Relax, Matthew," Arthur said softly, stroking the back of Matthew's hand with his thumb. "I discovered her completely by accident. I don't even think she knew I was there. You see, I was lying in a field of tall grass, about a mile from the rest of the camp, just trying to clear my head and plan for the battle to come. Elizabeth was also walking in that field, but with an American soldier. I stayed low when I spotted them, and tried to follow them as they walked, hoping to get some clandestine information."

"And?" Matthew ventured, barely trusting himself to speak.

Arthur smiled and shook his head. "I learned much that night, but it was all about you. The solider, I never knew his name, asked her why she had come all this way and was engaged in something so dangerous. She replied that she didn't feel it was that dangerous for her, seeing as she was from Montreal. She went on to clarify that she was helping a friend, someone named Matthew, who worked for her government who was very worried about someone special to him that was 'stuck' in the United States. She said she was already sympathetic to the cause of the United States, but she was especially moved by your concern and your dedication, even though you were similarly 'stuck.' I followed them until the edge of the field where they parted ways, and as the solider wished her well, he spoke her name. I made a point to remember it with the intent of tracking her down, and making her, as well as anyone connected with her, pay."

"Why are you telling me this _now_?" Matthew asked, still confused.

Arthur sighed and looked down for a moment, then back up at Matthew. "That was the moment when I first saw it, what I'd been doing to my colonies. If I'd scared you so badly that you couldn't risk helping Alfred openly, when I could see you'd been in love with him almost since you were children..." Arthur shook his head. "I had to face some painful truths that night. Eventually I began to encourage my bosses to leave the United States to itself, that the war was too costly for the empire. The only things I regret are not seeing the truth earlier, and the fact that I never acknowledged the courage it took for you to support Alfred that way."

Matthew looked down at his lap and worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He didn't _feel_ brave. If anything he felt embarrassed that Arthur even knew what he'd done… He didn't want to create any tension, especially considering his ongoing ties with the Commonwealth, and his recent severed ties with Alfred…

Arthur squeezed Matthew's hand once more. "My point, Matthew, is that you've always been stronger than you've been given credit for, and, whatever it is that's brought you here in such a hurry, I have faith that you'll get through it."

Matthew nodded, still looking down, not trusting himself to speak. He heard Arthur's chair scrape the stones of the veranda as he eased back and released Matthew's hand. He counted Arthur's footsteps as he walked around the table, and Matthew felt Arthur's hand settle on his shoulder once he was standing beside him.

"You don't have to say anything, but if you want to talk, on a personal or political level, both Francis and I would be happy to listen," Arthur murmured.

"Thank you," Matthew replied, his voice barely above a whisper, and his eyes burning with unshed tears.

Arthur gave Matthew's shoulder one last squeeze before turning and walking back inside Francis's home.

Matthew blinked when he felt two heavy paws settle in his lap. Kumajiro peered up at him curiously, licking the remnants of his breakfast off of his muzzle. "More food?"

Matthew let out a broken laugh, and reached for his untouched bunch of grapes. "Sure." Matthew pulled off a grape and held it out to Kumajiro, who delicately removed it from Matthew's fingers, and munched on it happily. Matthew repeated the process with the next grape and the next, trying to focus on the weight of Kumajiro's paws against him, and the slight scrape of Kumajirou's teeth against his fingers with each grape. Kumajirou, much like Matthew, didn't enjoy mornings, and was overly grumpy when he wasn't fed. In this moment, Matthew was very, very grateful for his company.

As Kumajiro ate, Matthew thought about what Arthur had said, and his own situation. As much as he appreciated Arthur's support and sentiment, he didn't really want to talk about it, not with them. Of course, trying to talk things out with Alfred hadn't really gone anywhere either… they always seemed to get caught up in misunderstandings, or Alfred just didn't _listen_ …

Matthew sighed, using both hands to pet Kumajiro's soft fur once all the grapes were gone. "Maybe I should try a letter?" Matthew mused out loud.

Kumajiro tilted his head as he looked up at Matthew and said, "If you want."

Matthew smiled despite himself. Kumajiro's needs were very simple, and he never really concerned himself with anything else, except the occasional cuddles. Matthew envied him his single-mindedness sometimes… He watched as Kumajiro trotted off to a sunny corner of the veranda, and curled up for a mid-morning nap.

A letter would hardly fix things, Matthew knew, but it was a place to start. He stood, cleared away the breakfast dishes, and climbed the stairs up to his temporary room. There was a small desk pushed into the far left corner, close to the window. Matthew sat at the desk and pulled out some paper and a pen. Francis had spent too many years sending letters for business and politics to break the habit of keeping every desk well stocked.

Matthew pressed the paper flat into the wood of the desk, smoothing it with his hands. Where to start? Matthew tapped the pen against his lips for a moment as he thought. Perhaps it was best to treat this letter as a rough draft, especially since he wasn't even sure if he was going to send it yet. With a deep breath, Matthew lowered the pen to paper, and let his thoughts flow in ink. At first it was slow, halting work, but as the pen scratched the paper it rapidly gained speed, and Matthew's hands began to shake.

_Dear Alfred,_

_I… You know, when I left I couldn't escape the thought that you wouldn't even notice…_ _**Have** _ _you noticed? God, I don't know which I want anymore. I've been asking for your attention for so long now, Alfred. I don't need all of it, but I can't escape the fact that you hardly give me_ _**any** _ _attention. Do you_ _**care** _ _if I'm there or not? I've been asking myself that for years…_

 _**If** _ _you read this, I bet your mind will go right to our wedding. After all, that was only eight months ago, right? Yes, you proposed, and yes, I said yes, and we were married… Do you know what else I remember about that day? I remember setting up the decorations,_ _**alone** _ _. That is until some staff noticed and had pity on me, even if we hadn't paid for the extra help. I remember you running off to the hotel pool the second the reception was over. I remember waiting for you to come back for_ _**hours** _ _. What I_ _**don't** _ _actually remember is when you did come back; I fell asleep waiting._

 _And it's not just the wedding. I can't actually remember the last time we shared the same bed, you're always up at all hours playing your stupid videogames, or you're just_ _**gone** _ _. I don't resent your responsibilities, I have my own, but I wish you showed_ _**some** _ _consideration for my feelings in your actions. You barely even wear your wedding ring…_

 _Jesus, Alfred, you don't even feel like a good_ _**roommate** _ _. Do you have_ _**any** _ _idea how many times I've waited for you to follow through on your share of the chores? I can't even count the number of times I've let you_ _**lie** _ _to me! You've kept me waiting at airports and restaurants! You've forgotten important work of your own and foisted it off on me! Do you have_ _**any** _ _idea what it feels like to come home after a long day of meetings and see the carpet so thick with Kumajiro's fur it's almost white? You probably, no… You_ _**definitely** _ _don't_ _**care** _ _! You've come home to freshly made dinner and never_ _**once** _ _washed a dish! Not to mention all the times I showed up to a political or personal event and had to make_ _**excuses** _ _for you, because you were too busy doing…doing whatever it is you actually think is important… You've always been a little self-centered, Alfred, and I don't think you've ever really seen that in yourself…_

 _I am so_ _**fucking** _ _tired of cleaning up your messes… I have been standing here for_ _**years** _ _beside you, I thought you loved me, I thought we had something special, but I was the only one, wasn't I? Tell me, did you_ _**finally** _ _propose because you got tired of everyone else_ _**nagging** _ _you about it after you made a big deal of wanting to be the one to do it? I really think you might have just_ _**forgotten** _ _without that…_

_I just can't do this anymore, Alfred..._

Matthew's hands grasped the paper furiously, tearing it to bits, before violently pushing back from the desk. Useless idea, **useless**! Begging, pleading, and demanding Alfred to change hadn't worked, what on earth had made Matthew think that this would? It really was **over**!  His breath was coming in pants now, and his cheeks were wet with tears. Matthew stumbled over to the bed, pushing his face into the pillow to muffle his sobs…

 

~*~*~*~

 

Arthur looked up to the ceiling when he heard the sobs, a frown creasing his forehead. He put down his book and stood, intent on offering Matthew what comfort he could. He'd barely reached the stairs when a hand closed around his wrist. Arthur turned to face an equally worried Francis.

"Non. Not yet, cher. Wait until half an hour after we can no longer hear him crying. Then go to him."

Arthur's frown deepened and he looked back up the stairs, then back at Francis. "Are you sure?"

Francis nodded. "Oui. He would only throw things if you tried to talk to him now."

The hint of a wry smile ghosted across Arthur's features. "You do have some experience in this area."

Francis leaned in and wrapped his arm around Arthur's shoulder, pressing a kiss into his temple. "We both do."

Arthur sagged into Francis's embrace for a moment, before allowing himself to be turned around and led away from the stairs. "Come," Francis murmured. "We will make some scones to bring up to him with some tea."

Despite Arthur's notorious reputation in the kitchen, he was not a bad cook when he concentrated. He ran into trouble at home because there were so many things demanding his attention, and he allowed them to distract him. Francis had learned, through some trial and error, that with some gentle guidance and reminders, Arthur's scones and other recipes tended to come out exactly as Arthur had always intended them to.

Arthur nodded and smiled sadly. His heart ached for Matthew, and he was absolutely livid with Alfred. "The next time I see that stupid American, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind."

Francis gave Alfred's shoulders a comforting squeeze as they walked. "I will hold him down for you."

A dark chuckle escaped Arthur's lips and he replied, "Don't tempt me; I might just take you up on it."

Arthur did his best to tune out Matthew's sobbing as he set out the bowls, spoons, and baking trays they would need. He could tell from the way Francis grasped his shoulder or ran a hand down his back every time they passed each other that it was hard on Francis too. Those little touches were as much about comforting himself as they were about comforting Arthur. They'd both survived their own terrible fights, and spent many long years apart; they drew on that inner resolve now to focus on the task at hand.

Arthur leaned back into Francis as he stepped behind Arthur to guide his hand in stirring the batter. He remembered how crushed he'd been when Francis had run off with Jeanne d'Arc. Granted, Francis and he had been embroiled in the hundred years war at the time, and had hardly been on speaking terms, but his traitorous heart hadn't let him lie to himself. Arthur's people had helped capture Jeanne d'Arc, put her on trial, and executed her. Arthur hadn't had a direct hand in this, but in his mad jealousy he'd done nothing to stop it either.

Francis's hands slid over Arthur's shaking ones and stilled them. "I'm sorry," Arthur whispered. When he and Francis had finally reconciled, sometime after the death of Queen Elizabeth I, Arthur hadn't been able to apologize enough for Jeanne's death and every other terrible thing he'd done. In truth, they'd both had much to apologize for. They'd done their best to resolve what had happened between them and forge new bonds. Still, the past never quite stayed buried.

Francis pressed his body into Arthur, hugging him from behind, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his neck. "What are you thinking of, cher?"

Arthur took a steadying breath and dared to glance over his shoulder at Francis. "Jeanne d'Arc," Arthur murmured.

Francis's expression softened with sadness at the memory and his arms tightened around Arthur. "I was just thinking of Queen Elizabeth the first," Francis confessed, his voice quiet.

Arthur turned in Francis's arms so that he could see him and hold him better. "That's a bit of a different situation, isn't it?" he asked. "She lived a long life, and I was married to her for the majority of her reign."

"Oui, but I did my best to make more than a bit of trouble for her," Francis replied, leaning forward so that his forehead rested against Arthur's.

Arthur smiled ruefully. "That you did."

Francis squeezed Arthur tightly before pulling back. "But that is all in the past, cher. We have lived it and talked it all out long ago. You know that, sometimes, having a perfect memory is unpardonable."

Arthur chuckled and nodded. Lifting his hand to rub some unshed tears from his eyes. "I suppose I'm being a bit over sentimental, aren't I?"

Francis pressed a kiss to Arthur's forehead and murmured, "I happens to the best of us. Come, Matthieu is starting to quiet down. We should have just enough time to bake and ice the scones, and make the tea."

Arthur nodded again and turned back around, focusing on his work. With Francis's gentle guidance and supervision, the scones were soon ready. Arthur made the tea while Francis prepared the tray and placed the scones on it.

With one final glance at each other, Arthur lifted the tray from the countertop and followed Francis up the stairs. They made no effort to conceal their approach; they wanted Matthew to know they were coming. They paused outside the guest room door and Francis knocked.

"Matthieu, may we come in?" Francis leaned is ear against the wood of the door, listening for a response. After a few long moments Matthew gave his muffled consent.

The room was dim when they entered it, Matthew had drawn the curtains at some point. Matthew himself was curled on the bed, turned to face away from them, a small pile of tissues and the destroyed remnants of the box they had been in, littering the sheets around him.

Neither Arthur nor Francis made any effort to turn on the lights or open the curtains. Instead Francis sat gingerly on the mattress and placed his hand on Matthew's side, rubbing soothing circles against the fabric of Matthew's shirt, while Arthur set the tray of scones and tea down on Matthew's small beside cabinet, taking care to avoid Matthew's glasses which also rested there.

"You need to eat and drink something," Francis murmured softly, trying to persuade Matthew to sit up. Matthew grumbled and shrank in on himself.

"Come on, poppet," Arthur urged, crouching beside Matthew's bed. "We'll all have some scones and tea, and if you want to be alone after that, we'll let you be."

Although Arthur was also a father figure to Matthew, and they continued a strong political alliance to this day, and as such, their relationship had always been more formal. Arthur's endearment, however, seemed to have struck a chord. Matthew pushed himself into a sitting position and scrubbed at his eyes. Arthur smiled and gently passed him a cup of tea. After all that crying he needed the liquid.

Matthew murmured a soft, "Thank you," and offered a watery smile before blowing on his tea to cool it and bringing it to his lips. Arthur had used three sugars in Matthew's tea in deference to his sweet tooth, and it seemed to achieve its purpose, because Matthew took a long drink.

So as to not make Matthew feel more scrutinized than he must already feel, Arthur stood, and poured tea for Francis and himself. After handing Francis his cup, Arthur excused himself to retrieve the desk chair at the other end of the room.

The torn up scraps of paper in the waste basket by the desk did not escape Arthur's notice. He recognized Matthew's handwriting, the line _Dear Alfred,_ especially stood out to him, and Arthur was immediately seized with the desire to take them. Firstly, Arthur didn't want Matthew to upset himself again by trying to look over whatever it was he had written. And second, there might, just might, be a letter worth delivering in the future. Arthur glanced briefly over his shoulder to confirm that Francis had begun speaking softly to Matthew before bending down and, disguising his movements as those needed to lift the sturdy wooden chair, Arthur scooped up the torn paper, quickly stuffing the scraps into his pocket.

Moments later Arthur was back beside Matthew's bed, settling himself into the chair he'd moved over and reaching for his own cup of tea.

"Would you like a scone, Matthieu?" Francis asked. "Arthur made them, but I helped, so you know they are palatable."

"I heard that!" Arthur sputtered indignantly.

"How could you not, cher? You are right next to me," Francis replied, blowing Arthur a saucy kiss.

"Don't fight you two," Matthew broke in.

Arthur glanced back at Matthew and saw a slight hint of a smile on his face. Although Francis and Arthur were bickering, he knew they were mostly joking. "If you insist," Arthur relented, "but you have to try a scone and tell me honestly what you think."

Matthew shyly reached for a scone and bit into it. Unlike Alfred, Matthew was too polite to speak with his mouth full, but he did let out a hum of approval as he chewed, which soothed all of Arthur's remaining temper.

Once he had swallowed Matthew said, "You did a really good job, Arthur, thank you."

"You're welcome, poppet," Arthur replied, reaching for his own scone. He intended to leave the rest for Matthew because, despite his incessant sweet tooth, Matthew didn't actually eat much, and he ate even less when he was upset. Still, it would make Matthew nervous if Arthur and Francis didn't eat too. Arthur held out the scone he had selected to Francis, who dutifully broke off half for himself. They shared a calm smile of solidarity. They would both be here for Matthew anytime he needed them.


	4. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things get worse before they get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, subscribed to, and/or bookmarked my story! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4: Fight

 

Three weeks. Three weeks had passed since Matthew had run to Francis. They'd been a quiet three weeks, and the silence was starting to itch. Matthew looked around Francis's still and quiet living room. Aside from Kumajiro, who was snoozing in a shaft of bright spring sunlight from the window, he was alone. He could hear the insistent clacking of Francis's fingers on the keyboard as he worked in his study, and the spray of the hose as Arthur tended Francis' small garden on the veranda. Francis and Arthur had both been excellent hosts. They were supportive, cheerful, and gave Matthew more than enough space when he needed it. Matthew had been able to breathe, do what little work he needed to do remotely, and nurse his battered heart. Now, however, he wanted a change. He wasn't considering going home, not yet, but a little fresh air might be good for him.

Matthew stood from the sofa, stretched, and penned a quick note for Francis and Arthur in case he was missed.

_Dear Papa and Arthur,_

_Please don't be concerned, I've just gone for a walk. I'll be back by suppertime. I hope you have a good day,_

_\- Matthew_

Matthew placed the note on the coffee table where it could easily be seen, then went to the hall closet for his jacket. The air outside was cool, but not cold. The sun shone brightly, but not warmly, on all the flowering trees and the new growth of spring. It was a pleasant enough day, Matthew decided. He stuck his hands in his pockets, and let his feet lead him.

Paris was a beautiful city, rich with art, history, and passion. Matthew walked idly through the streets admiring architecture, and people watching. Delicious smells wafted to him from the open doors of restaurants and cafés as he passed, but he wasn't tempted to stop and eat. He hadn't had much of an appetite at all recently; his appetite was always a sure sign of his emotional state since he had a relentless sweet tooth.

A glittering light caught Matthew's eye and he realized he was close to the Seine. A slight smile curved the edges of Matthew's lips and he changed direction so that he would be able to walk along the river. Matthew watched the boats, admired the newly leafed trees, and craned his neck to see if he was close to the Eiffel tower. He would have to repeat this walk again at dusk before he left Paris; the lights along the river were beautiful.

Matthew was just beginning to think about walking to the Louvre, when a familiar splash of white hair caught his eye. Matthew squinted at the person as he approached them, wanting to be sure before he called out a greeting. A moment later, Gilbert, the albino personification of Prussia turned and, instantly recognizing Matthew, shot him a toothy grin.

"Birdie!" Gilbert called out with an enthusiastic wave.

Matthew trotted over to meet Gilbert, smiling at the nickname Gilbert had assigned him long ago.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in Paris?" Gilbert asked, waggling his white eyebrows over piercing red eyes before looping his arms around Matthew's waist and pulling him in for a hug. "Were you hoping to surprise me?"

Matthew chuckled softly and returned the hug. "It's good to see you too, Gilbert." Gilbert and Matthew had been friends for a while, especially since Gilbert's country ceased to be. Personified countries were exceedingly long lived, but not completely immortal. Rome and Germania had faded away with history, and it was likely they all would, given enough time. The fact that Gilbert, as a living personification of a country that no longer existed, had never faded away, which unsettled many of the other countries. Matthew, however, had always been willing to lend an ear, and thus their friendship had been born. They were an odd pair because Gilbert was so extroverted and Matthew was so shy, but it worked.

When Matthew pulled back, Gilbert kept his arms loosely around his waist, but that was hardly a surprise. Gilbert was a very touchy-feely person, and a notorious flirt. Matthew didn't mind though. Gilbert was a good friend and, especially at the moment, Matthew reveled in the attention. It was a nice reminder that _someone_ liked him, even if was nothing more than a friendly flirtation. "You still haven't answered my question," Gilbert chided in a lilting voice. "How did you know I would be here?"

"I hardly knew I would be here myself," Matthew replied, his smile growing. "Spur of the moment vacation I guess. What brings you here?"

"Feli talked Luddy into visiting, and I had to come along of course. The trip would not be complete without my awesomeness!"

"I heard that, Gilbert," a rough voice interjected. "How many times have I told you not to call me that!"

Matthew and Gilbert turned to see Ludwig, the heavily muscled personification of Germany, closing in on them with a deep frown creasing his forehead. Only Matthew bothered to stifle his laughter, and managed a polite greeting as well. "Hello Ludwig, it's quite a surprise seeing you here."

Ludwig turned, his expression softening slightly, and he nodded. "Good morning, Matthew. How are you doing?"

Matthew's smile crinkled at the edges of his eyes. Ludwig could be a bit stiff and stubborn at times, but he never forgot his manners. "I'm well, thank you. How are you? Gilbert was just telling me that Feliciano is also traveling with you?"

Ludwig nodded, "Ja, he is just-" Ludwig turned and stopped when he saw Feliciano up on the railing, leaning far over to stare in amazement at the Seine. "Feli! Get down this instant!"

Feliciano, the slight, auburn haired personification of northern Italy, looked over his shoulder and beamed at them. He lifted one arm from the railing he was leaning on to wave enthusiastically. "But this is so much fun!"

Ludwig grumbled and started back towards Feliciano, but Feliciano wasn't put off in the slightest by Ludwig's temper, he never was. "Come on, Ludwig, you should try this too!"

"Nein, I will not, and you will get down," Ludwig insisted, wrapping his arms around Feliciano's waist, and pulling him down off the railing. Feliciano pouted, but he didn't resist. Matthew smiled despite the pang of jealousy that tore through him when Feliciano leaned back against Ludwig's broad chest and smiled up at him. It was no secret amongst the countries that Feliciano and Ludwig had been together almost since they had first formed. They bickered, sure, but no one that saw them together doubted how well they suited each other. They were the romantic envy of the entire united nations.

Ludwig had first met Feliciano not as Germany, but as the Holy Roman Empire. The Holy Roman Empire had fallen in the wars, but Ludwig had still returned to Feliciano many years later as Germany. It wasn't unheard of for a personified country to be reincarnated or reformed as their people and country changed, but they were never the same person afterwards. Reincarnation or reforming was a much more drastic process than the boundaries of a country changing or a name change. Time and history changed every country, but a remaking was much more drastic than a slow evolution. Until Feliciano and Ludwig, it had been unheard of for a reformed country to continue any of the past relationships they had before, but Ludwig and Feliciano never seemed to waver from each other.

Who could compete with a love story like that?

Ludwig and Feliciano made their way back to Matthew and Gilbert walking hand in hand. Feliciano was carefree as always, but the more reserved Ludwig was sporting a light pink blush.

"Are you enjoying your vacation?" Matthew asked, glancing between Ludwig, Feliciano, and Gilbert.

"Oh, yes, it's been wonderful!" Feliciano gushed. "It is so warm here, and the food is good. Ludwig didn't want to come at first, but I convinced him because he had a meeting here anyway. Since he is so close it didn't make sense to just have it over video chat when he could have a vacation and a meeting."

"Oh?" Matthew felt the color drain from his face as a frightening thought occurred to him. "There isn't another world conference soon, is there?"

"Nein, Birdie," Gilbert replied, "It's just a simple trade meeting. The next world conference isn't until this summer."

"Oh, good," Matthew replied, hoping he didn't look as relived as he felt. He'd never shied away from his work, but...he didn't really want to come face to face with Alfred right now. He knew it wasn't something he could avoid forever, but... not now.

"We're going to the Eiffel Tower next," Feliciano exclaimed, almost bouncing on his feet with excited energy. "You should come too!"

Matthew hesitated. "I-I don't know. Francis and Arthur are waiting back at home for me..." While this was not technically accurate, considering the note he'd written implied he might be out for most of the day, Matthew suddenly felt the need to return the that still quiet living room he'd left just hours ago. He'd always been shy, and since he'd arrived in France he'd felt more fragile than usual at the most unexpected moments...

Gilbert must not have seen Matthew's sudden distress because he burst out, "Arthur's in town too?! Awesome! You know what we have to do now?" Matthew, Ludwig and Feliciano blinked at Gilbert, but offered no reply. "We have go out together; see the town!"

Feliciano let out an enthusiastic, "Yay!" jumping into the air with both hands above his head. Ludwig and Matthew looked dubious.

"That was not part of the plan," Ludwig insisted.

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "You have too many plans! You need to lighten up a little, relax. Come on, it will be fun! Look how excited Feliciano is."

Ludwig glanced at his partner and, as usual, Feliciano's joy was infectious. A small, reluctant smile edged onto his face. "I suppose we could go..."

"Yes!" Gilbert turned to Matthew next. "You're coming too, right? You can invite Francis and Arthur. I know a really nice place. Good food, music, dancing. It's popular, but never too crowded. We can go tomorrow night. What do you think? Please say yes, Birdie!"

Matthew was a bit flustered by the sudden suggestion, and he wasn't sure how he felt. Plans for tomorrow would let him get used to the idea of going out with everyone, which was much different than going out alone, or at least it felt that way. He glanced first to Feliciano's excited face, Ludwig's much calmer, somewhat resigned face, and then back to Gilbert's pleading face. Not feeling up to sightseeing with a bunch of people today was somewhat understandable, but Matthew knew he couldn't avoid everyone forever. Sooner rather than later he'd have to start going out again. He couldn't hide in Francis's living room forever, however tempting that might seem at times... "Okay," Matthew breathed, his reply barely above a whisper. "I'll come."

"Awesome!" Gilbert exclaimed, pumping his fist into the air with excitement. "You won't regret it, Birdie, I promise."

 

~*~*~*~

 

"Why am I doing this?" Matthew muttered to himself as he looked into the floor length mirror of Francis' bedroom. Francis had been thrilled at the idea of a night out on the town, and Arthur, while not quite as exuberant, was also pleased.

When Matthew had hurriedly packed for this unexpected trip, he'd brought his usual jeans, cargo pants, t-shirts, and flannel shirts for the chilly days. He did have one pair of black skinny jeans, which he was currently wearing, and Francis had loaned him a red tank top for the evening. It wasn't anything too flashy, but Matthew still felt exposed. Francis had even convinced Matthew to put in his contacts, something he almost never did…

"Ah, Matthieu, you look wonderful!" Francis exclaimed, sweeping into the room with his usual flourish.

"Je vous remercie, Papa," Matthew replied with a faint blush. Francis was dressed tailored black slacks and a simple white t-shirt.

"Are you lot ready to go?" Arthur asked, stepping into the room. He was dressed in black leather pants and a sleeveless gray shirt.

"Oui, I am ready," Francis declared, looping an arm around Matthew's shoulders and moving towards the stairs.

Matthew did his best to smile and keep up with the conversation as they made their way through the streets to the bar Gilbert had selected. Gilbert was waiting for them with Ludwig and Feliciano, and he waved enthusiastically when he saw them approaching.

"Birdie! Arthur! Francis! Good to see you!"

They all exchanged greetings before Gilbert ushered them inside. The bar was exactly as he had described: dimly lit but not dark, and it had a solid dance floor with some tables scattered around the edges. The music was loud enough to be clearly heard without drowning out any conversations.

Gilbert led them over to a large round table that was big enough for their entire party, and immediately ordered a round of shots for the group. Matthew wasn't a big drinker, especially of hard alcohol, but he found himself reaching for the shots with trembling fingers as soon as they arrived. For once he wanted not to think too hard about his own situation. After three weeks of marinating in it, he wanted to think about _anything_ else.

Matthew had three shots before he even thought about food. His stomach burned in protest, but thankfully someone had ordered a plate of appetizers for the table. Matthew reached for the food and downed a portion with equal gusto. He felt someone nudge him and turned to his left to see Gilbert offering him a large glass of clear water. Matthew lifted his hand to protest that he was already feeling quite buzzed when Gilbert said, "It's just water, Birdie. You'll be hurting tomorrow if you don't drink some."

Matthew accepted the water with an abashed grin and set about slowly draining his glass. When he looked up he saw that Feliciano had already dragged Ludwig onto the dance floor. Ludwig was a bit stiff, as he almost always was, but Feliciano more than made up for that with his enthusiasm and natural grace.

"Pfennige for your thoughts?"

Matthew glanced back over at Gilbert and frowned. "I'm sorry?"

Gilbert smiled and slid a bit closer to Matthew, looping an arm around his shoulder. "You've been drinking like you're trying to forget something, Birdie."

Matthew sighed and stared morosely down into his glass of water. He hated that his feelings were so transparent. Did _everyone_ know?

"Hey," Gilbert's voice was soft and coaxing as he lifted Matthew's chin with the tips of his fingers until their eyes met. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to, Birdie. I just wanted to let you know I'm here for you." Gilbert shook his head ruefully. "I guess inviting you out might not have been the best thing, huh?"

"No," Matthew protested. "No, it's fine. It's not like hiding out at Francis's place is doing me any good." Matthew glanced around the table, grateful to see that Francis and Arthur had moved to the dance floor as well. Francis had always been a very good dancer, and it was good to see Arthur relax and enjoy the moment. He could be almost as rigid as Ludwig some days.

Gilbert picked up Matthew's left hand with his free one, and traced Matthew's empty fingers. "Did he break your heart, Matthew?"

Matthew swallowed hard and looked away. "I couldn't stay…" There was more to it, but that was the essential truth of the reality that Matthew was still struggling to accept.

Gilbert nodded and was silent for a moment. He'd known his own share of heartbreak with both Elizabeta, the personification of Hungary, and Roderich, the personification of Austria. He knew better than anyone that words were often cold comfort in the face of heartache. Gilbert sighed and squeezed Matthew's shoulders in a half hug until Matthew glanced up at him. "Dance with me?"

Matthew's smile was instantaneous. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been out with someone and they'd asked him to dance. "Yes, I'd love to."

Without a moment of hesitation Gilbert pulled Matthew to his feet and out onto the dance floor. Matthew leaned into Gilbert as he pulled him close and they moved to the driving beat. Both Matthew and Gilbert knew a few ballroom dances and it was easy for them to establish a rhythm to more contemporary songs. Moreover, despite the fact that he was a notorious flirt, Gilbert never pushed things past a certain point. He knew Matthew's boundaries, and he respected them.

More than once people had speculated that Gilbert and Matthew were a couple or that they had feelings for each other. The reality was that they were two good friends who were comfortable with some harmless flirting. Gilbert had not flirted with Matthew since he'd begun his relationship with Alfred, but now their dancing was just this side of _scandalous_. It wasn't just the liquor that had burned away Matthew's shyness, it was also his long neglected need for affection and his absolute trust that Gilbert would stop if he asked him to. ... _if_ Matthew asked him to stop.

Matthew had never explored the possibility of more than friendship with Gilbert because he'd only had eyes for Alfred. Now that things with Alfred were over, the thought did occur to him, but Matthew couldn't honestly say that a romantic relationship with Gilbert held any appeal. First because Gilbert was a good friend. Second Gilbert was safe. He could hold Matthew close and make him feel appreciated without any of the emotional mine fields Matthew had been treading in recent years. It was a chance to just let go, and the last thing Matthew wanted to do was fuck that up.

Gilbert lifted his arm, spun Matthew, and then pulled him close again. Matthew chuckled breathlessly as they moved together. "Trying to put on a show?"

Gilbert smirked and waggled his eyebrows at Matthew. "Maybe."

Onc song flowed into the next and as they shifted their grip on each other a glint of light caught Matthew's attention. He glanced down and saw ring on Gilbert's left ring finger, a band of silver or platinum, yellow gold, and rose gold twisted together. Matthew's jaw fell open slightly and he looked back up at Gilbert with a meaningful and surprised smile. "Hiding something from me?"

Gilbert glanced at the ring and shrugged ruefully. "Not really. They, well, one of them is very reserved."

Matthew arched an eyebrow at Gilbert. "One of them?"

Gilbert nodded. "There are two, including myself that makes three."

Matthew whistled softly, then smiled and said, "Congratulations, Gilbert. As long as you're all safe, sane, and happy, that's what matters."

Gilbert beamed. "Danke. It is pretty awesome." His expression grew wistful for a moment. "I didn't think I had a chance for a long time." For all of Gilbert's supposed bravado and arrogance, he had soft side that other's rarely saw.

"Whoever they are," Matthew continued, "They're both very lucky."

"Danke, Birdie," Gilbert replied, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to Matthew's cheek. The contact was brief, not because Gilbert intended it to be, but because Gilbert was suddenly wrenched violently away from Matthew.

Matthew stumbled with the force of his separation from Gilbert and smacked right into one very pissed off Alfred F. Jones.

"What the hell, Mattie?! You disappear out of _nowhere_ , and I find you halfway around the fucking world, having an affair?!"

Matthew reeled, not just from Alfred's temper, but also from the strong sour smell of alcohol on his breath. "Alfred, we were just dancing," Matthew tried to reason.

"I saw that kiss!" Alfred insisted, stumbling slightly in place.

Matthew had been dubious about his own consumption of alcohol tonight, but while he was still a bit dizzy, he had no problem keeping his feet under him. Alfred must have really overdone it… "It was a kiss on the cheek, Alfred. You need to calm down."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Alfred blustered, still staggering in place. "Where have you been this past week?"

"How did you even _find_ me?" Matthew fired back.

Alfred fumbled for his phone before thrusting it out at Matthew's face. "GPSSSssss tracking," he slurred. "I tracked your phone."

"How do you even know how to do that?" Matthew asked. He was exasperated, overwhelmed, and bewildered. More than anything else, he was angry. Why the _hell_ was Alfred following him?

Alfred shrugged. "Kiku showed me." He tried to put his phone away, but he missed his pocket and it tumbled to the floor. Alfred frowned at it for a moment before turning back to Matthew, his face slowly contorting with anger as he looked at Matthew. "You haven't answered my question! Where have you _been_ all week?!"

"I've been gone for **three** weeks, Alfred, and I'm **not** coming back!" Matthew's hands were balled into fists at his side, and his face was flushed red with anger.

Alfred's face crumpled in confusion. "Three? Nah, that can't be right." The effort of recollection proved too much for Alfred's balance and he finally tipped sideways onto the floor.

"Alfred, be careful!" Matthew admonished, leaning down to help drag Alfred back to his feet.

Alfred floundered for a moment before letting out an ugly growl. "Back off!" he snarled, unintentionally backhanding Matthew as he flailed.

Matthew recoiled, pressing a hand over his stinging face, eyes wide with shock. Gilbert was beside him in an instant, wrapping an arm around Matthew's waist and pulling him away. "We're out of here," Gilbert murmured as Ludwig stepped between them and Alfred, his posture both defensive and menacing.

Matthew nodded numbly and allowed himself to be led out of the bar and down the street. Matthew tried to breathe, or speak, but couldn't seem to summon air or words, and his mouth opened and closed uselessly. They hurried along for several blocks until Gilbert pulled them both into a small park where they were somewhat sheltered by the surrounding trees.

Gilbert pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to the others so they would know where to find them before he turned to Matthew. A deep frown grew on Gilbert's face as he cradled Matthew's face in his hands. Matthew winced even at the light pressure of Gilbert's fingers.

"Jesus, he got you good," Gilbert murmured, his eyes searching Matthew's face. "You're going to have a hell of a black eye. It's a good thing you weren't wearing your glasses."

"I think he hit me with his elbow," Matthew mused dully, leaning the uninjured side of his face into Gilbert's hands.

Gilbert's face twisted with anger. "That bastard!"

"He didn't mean to hit me," Matthew murmured softly.

"Jesus, Birdie, don't start making excuses for him!" Gilbert exploded, lifting his arms and gesturing wildly in frustration.

"I'm not!" Matthew snapped, wincing as the effort aggravated his already aching face. "What he did is not okay, Gilbert. I meant what I said when I told him I wasn't coming back, but he's never hit me. That's _not_ why I left." Matthew sighed sadly and wrapped his arms around himself to keep the chilly night air at bay. "The fact that he hit me tonight was an accident."

"Are you sure?" Gilbert asked, his tone still biting.

Matthew was about to shake his head, but then thought better of it. "I've never _seen_ him like that…" His voice was almost a whisper. "I mean, I've seen him drunk, but not like that."

Matthew jumped when he felt hands on him, wincing as his head shot up.

"Easy," Gilbert cautioned, "it's just me." Then, after a long pause he added, "Is this okay? Do you want me to let go?"

"You're fine, Gil," Matthew replied, leaning into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Gilbert's waist and pressing the uninjured side of his face into Gilbert's shoulder.

"You're sure he's never hit you?" Gilbert asked, his voice still angry, but much calmer than it had been.

"I promise," Matthew insisted, "He's never hit me. I wouldn't tolerate that. Hell, lately he's been ignoring me, and I guess I won't tolerate that either."

Gilbert's reply was emphatic. "Good. You shouldn't tolerate any kind of mistreatment, Birdie. No one should."

Matthew smiled softly and closed his eyes as he stood there, hugging Gilbert in the dark, cold, abandoned park. He didn't want to think about why he was in Paris, or the disastrous turn of events tonight at the bar. Right now, all he wanted to think about were the warm strong arms of his friend, and enjoy being with someone who really cared about him.

A small sound at the edge of the park brought both of their heads up with a start and Matthew's grip tightened in the fabric of Gilbert's shirt as his vision swam. Gilbert tightened his grip on Matthew to steady him, and peered into the darkness for a moment before his shoulders relaxed. "You can come out, Feli."

Feliciano stepped into the dim light of the park, and slowly approached them. "They sent me ahead with some ice for your eye."

Matthew stepped back from Gilbert and accepted the small ice pack that Feliciano was holding out to him. "Thank you."

"Are you okay?" Feliciano asked, his eyes darting nervously between Matthew and Gilbert.

"I'll be fine," Matthew assured him. And he would be…eventually.

"Are you okay, Feli?" Gilbert asked, stepping closer to him.

Feliciano let out a little wail and barreled into Gilbert's chest. Gilbert let out a small surprised 'oof', before he wrapped his arms around Feliciano and pulled him close. "It was so scary!" Feliciano bawled. "Alfred came in and then everyone was yelling, and then he _hit_ Matthew!"

"We're all okay, Feli," Gilbert assured him, gently rocking the smaller man in his arms.

Matthew gingerly pressed the ice pack to his face, and watched his friends console each other. Feliciano had never shied away from making his feelings known, and while this sometimes made him intense company, Matthew had always envied how open and honest he was. Matthew, in contrast, held himself back more often than not. He'd held himself back at work, with Alfred, with almost everything… If he really wanted things to be different when he went back home, that would have to change.

Matthew shifted, trying to turn his head towards the street when his gaze locking on a delicate metal ring Feliciano wore. As he stared Matthew's eyes widened in realization. It was a ring with twisted bands of a silver colored metal, gold, and rose gold… Matthew's eyes shifted to Gilbert, who caught his gaze and nodded once, confirming Matthew's suspicion. Despite the shock, Matthew found himself smiling. "Congratulations," he mouthed, both surprised and pleased. He never would have imagined Gilbert, Ludwig, and Feliciano as one romantic unit. The fact that reality was perhaps messier, and more complicated, for the unrivaled sweethearts of the personified nations made Matthew feel strangely hopeful for both them, and himself.

Matthew turned back to the street when he actually heard the footfalls of a small group headed their way. He tensed, but then relaxed when he saw Ludwig, followed by Francis and Arthur, walking into the small park.

"It is over," Ludwig said, upon reaching Matthew, Gilbert, and Feliciano. Feliciano lifted his head, his expression still full of anxiety and Ludwig reached out a hand to grasp his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Gilbert and Ludwig locked eyes and shared a meaningful and affectionate glance.

"Oui," Francis agreed, stepping closer to the group, with a vindictive smile on his face. "When Alfred wakes up he will find himself in the med bay of a slow moving cargo ship."

Matthew paled and turned back to Ludwig. "You knocked him out?"

"Nein, he passed out shortly after you left," Ludwig's reply was quick and to the point. "Francis made a few calls to arrange Alfred's slow trip home, and we lifted him into a cab headed straight for the harbor."

"The crew on the ship is minimal, but there is a nurse," Francis assured Matthew, knowing he would worry otherwise. "Alfred will have all the fluids he needs and, more importantly, it will be a few weeks before he's able to even think of returning. That should let him cool his heels."

Matthew nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Birdie," Gilbert said, gently rubbing Feliciano's back as he spoke. "You're not responsible for Alfred's bad behavior."

There was a general murmur of assent before Arthur interjected, "You might want to see a doctor yourself, Matthew."

Matthew frowned, started to shake his head, and then thought better of it. He didn't particularly like or trust doctors. Plus at this hour he'd need to go to the hospital, and then he might wait for ages. "I'm fine, really."

Arthur and Francis looked ready to protest when Ludwig stepped into Matthew's field of vision. "I can examine you, if you wish."

Matthew knew Ludwig was not in the habit of offering something he did not feel confident he could do, and that he'd tended to many of his people while fighting beside them in past wars. This was hardly a battle injury, but it couldn't hurt to have Ludwig look him over. "Okay."

Ludwig stepped closer and delicately took Matthew's face in his hand, feeling along the bruised and swollen flesh. Matthew winced occasionally, but otherwise did not protest. Next Ludwig lifted his phone, engaged the flashlight application, and shined the light into Matthew's eyes, studying his pupil reaction. Then Ludwig started asking Matthew a series of questions: Where was he? What city? What street? What date was it? What day of the year? What had he done today? Was Matthew in pain? Where was the pain? How much pain? What made the pain worse?

Matthew answered every question as calmly and thoroughly as possible, reaching out to grip Ludwig's arm at one point when a wave of dizziness swept over him. At last Ludwig nodded to himself and turned to face the others, one arm holding Matthew in place so he wouldn't fall if the dizziness returned. "He may have a slight concussion. I do not think there are any fractures. Obviously there is bruising and swelling. We should not let him sleep tonight, just to be sure. And then he will still need someone to check on him often for a few days."

"I'm right here," Matthew protested.

Ludwig turned back to Matthew, his expression calm but concerned. "I am not sure how much you will remember. I think it is a minor concussion, but head wounds are tricky."

"Well," Francis began, stepping up to Matthew and taking his arm from Ludwig's secure grip, "In that case, I would like to invite everyone back to my home for coffee and pastries."

There was some dubious murmuring before Gilbert spoke up, "I don't mind if Matthew doesn't. There's no reason tonight has to end on a sour note, but if you'd rather be alone-"

"No," Matthew interjected quickly, "I'd like you to come over, please." Gilbert was right, he didn't want tonight to end this way. Plus Francis and Arthur had ineffectually been channeling their obvious concern for him into excessive baking. They really had enough pastries to feed an army.

"Yeah, Francis makes good pastries!" Feliciano chimed in.

Francis adjusted his grip on Matthew's arm so that he could offer more support if Matthew needed it and replied, "Arthur helped, too, Feli. And yes, they are very good."

Feliciano look slightly dubious about the pastries for a moment, but he was too polite to voice his doubts. Instead he reached for Ludwig's hand while holding Gilbert with his other hand, and began to lead them out of the park. Arthur followed, and Francis and Matthew fell into place beside him.

Conversation flowed surprisingly easily between the six of them, despite the rude interruption they'd had at the bar, and Matthew was grateful for it. His relationship with Alfred was well and truly over now, and he'd have to live with that reality. Still, while his heart ached with loss he was comforted by the presence of his friends. He was grateful for their company as well as the refuge Francis and Arthur had offered him. Matthew knew he couldn't stay with Francis and Arthur forever... but a few weeks more wouldn't hurt.


	5. Austen and Lace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frivolous fun might be just what the doctor ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story; your encouragement makes my day! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 5: Austen and Lace

 

" _I had not known you a month, before I felt you were the last man in the world whom I could_ _ **ever**_ _marry!"_

Feliciano winced in sympathy as he stared at the screen. "She's being awfully mean," he observed leaning into Ludwig's shoulder. Gilbert sat on his other side, and Francis, Arthur, and Matthew sat in an adjacent love seat and arm chair, respectively. It had been over a week since they'd gone out together, an evening that turned into an impromptu all night movie and coffee party in Francis' sitting room. Matthew's bruises had faded and he'd dared to ask Gilbert and company over to watch movies again. They had agreed and Arthur, having been outvoted during the previous unexpected movie night, had selected the 1995 BBC production of Pride and Prejudice, and started playing it before anyone else could weigh in on the matter.

Matthew loved Pride and Prejudice almost as much as he loved Beauty and the Beast; he had been grateful that there were no protests. He'd been worried about imposing himself on Gilbert, Ludwig, and Feliciano's vacation, but, given the lively commentary, they seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as he was.

"He was unkind to her first, Feli," Ludwig observed. "He prevented her sister from marrying the man she loved, and Elizabeth loves her sister very much."

Feliciano frowned and nodded. "Yeah, that's true. He shouldn't have been so judgmental."

"Pfft, that's not half of what he deserves," Gilbert interjected. "If someone had hurt _my_ brother that way they'd never even find the body."

"Yes, Darcy insulted Elizabeth's sister," Arthur said, his spine straightening with some small amount of indignation, "But Elizabeth is a woman in the regency era! There is very little she can do to him and still keep her reputation. Shouting at him like that is bold enough."

Wanting to diffuse a possible argument, Francis added, "It is beautiful how they come together in the end, no? They both wronged each other, and yet they were able to forgive."

There was a general murmur of ascent and the audience, for the moment, was silent. Matthew leaned back into his chair, a reluctant smile on his lips. Love stories had always had a special place in his heart, and he firmly believed that people often gave up on relationships too soon. Francis and Arthur were a prime example. Despite everything they had been through and done to each other, they were still together. He'd like to think that such an ending was possible for his own love story, but that was impossible at this point.

The movie stretched on to its inevitable conclusion, with continued commentary from the audience. As the credits rolled they all stood and stretched, working the kinks out of muscles that had become sore from sitting for too long.

"That was fun," Gilbert observed, flopping limply back onto the sofa.

Ludwig looked pointedly at Gilbert for a moment before turning to Matthew and adding, "Yes, thank you for inviting us."

"You're welcome," Matthew replied, "I'm glad you had fun." It _had_ been a good time, despite the persistent thoughts of Alfred and the unwelcome changes that awaited Matthew at home, which had been a constant source of distraction recently.

"You know," Francis observed, a sly smile creeping onto his face, "The fun does not have to end yet."

"Yeah?" Gilbert asked, tipping his head back over the sofa to look at Francis. "What are you suggesting?"

Francis shrugged. "Oh, nothing too strenuous. Just a walk. It's a beautiful day today."

Matthew knew Francis too well not to be suspicious. He was planning something. He opened his mouth to ask what it was, then shut it again. Did it really matter? He trusted Francis. Whatever Francis had in mind, he obviously meant for it to be fun. Matthew forced himself to nod. "Okay."

Francis winked at Matthew, making him even more suspicious, then turned to the rest of their companions. "What do you say?"

"It couldn't hurt," Arthur agreed.

"Ja, a walk would do us good after all that sitting," Ludwig agreed, pulling an excited Feliciano and a grumbling Gilbert to their feet.

"Excellent!" Francis replied, grabbing Arthur's hand and heading for the door. Matthew followed, with Ludwig, Feliciano, and Gilbert close behind him.

The day was beautiful. There were blue skies, white fluffy clouds dotting the horizon, and warm, radiant sunlight everywhere. Matthew breathed deeply and found himself relaxing.

"It's good to see you smile," Gilbert observed, stepping into place beside Matthew and pulling him close by looping an arm around his shoulder.

"I smile," Matthew protested.

"Not enough," Gilbert replied. "You're a good person, Birdie; you deserve to be happy." Gilbert paused for a moment, looking at the street around them. "Most nations were too scared to even look at me when my country dissolved, they were just waiting for me to fade and trying hard not to think about when they might join me. You were one of the only ones to actually seek me out and speak with me. I don't think I ever thanked you enough for that..." Gilbert's voice had grown so quiet now that Matthew had to strain to hear him.

"You're a good person too, Gil," Matthew assured him.

Gilbert straightened and puffed his chest out with his usual bravado. "Ja, I know. I am awesome!"

Matthew chuckled and leaned against him as they walked. He was grateful for Gilbert's friendship. He was grateful for everyone walking with him, although he didn't know Ludwig and Feliciano as well as Arthur, Francis, and Gilbert. That would need to change. He'd let his shyness and his single-minded devotion to Alfred isolate him for far too long.

"This way!" Francis called over his shoulder, turning down a side street where the buildings were crowded more closely together.

Ludwig perked up, finally catching on that this was more than just a simple walk. "Are we going somewhere specific, Francis?"

Francis winked at Ludwig over his shoulder. "Something like that."

"Oh, a surprise," Feliciano cooed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I love surprises. Will there be food there?"

Francis chuckled softly. "There may be some refreshments, but that's not what we're going for." Francis led them on through the beautiful streets of his capital city, winding his way to the older, less modernized streets. The buildings crowded close, but there was a neatness and a homey feeling to this neighborhood. At length, just when some of their company were beginning to ask for a rest, he stopped in front of an old fashioned but elegant store front with large display windows.

The all stopped with him and Matthew followed his gaze up to the sign above the store. It was polished dark wood with elegant writing burned into the sign. It read: _Tying Knots Tailor_. On either side of the title were depictions of elaborate but delicate knots.

Frowning, Matthew allowed his eyes to fall to the display windows and their contents. In each stood several immaculate white gowns. Tearing his gaze from the display, Matthew looked to Francis. "Papa, why are we here?"

Francis glanced at Arthur, who was frowning softly up at him. Francis lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to Arthur's knuckles, then he released Arthur's hand and stepped closer to Matthew. "I thought we could do a little window shopping."

Matthew's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "For _wedding_ dresses?"

"Oui," Francis replied, a hint of his sly expression returning. "Would you like to go in?"

Matthew's reply was flat and not amused. "I'm not getting married, papa."

"Non, not now." A sad smile flickered over Francis's features. "Maybe you never will again, but I do not think so."

Matthew took a step back, and Francis reached out, grasping his arm and preventing a further retreat. "I want you to remember that love is possible, even though you are hurting now." Francis inclined his head to the store. "And I thought it would be fun. We do not have to buy anything."

Matthew hesitated, glancing around at their companions. Arthur was silent, still frowning slightly. He might not have known what Francis was planning, or he might be worried about Matthew's reaction. Ludwig was glowering at Feliciano who had stepped up to the glass and was ogling the dresses on display. Gilbert looked calm and relaxed, like he was waiting for instructions, a notion he confirmed by saying, "It's up to you, Birdie. I can't say I'm not tempted. You always did look good in a dress."

Matthew flushed and looked away, his gaze falling back on the long white dresses in the display window. He scanned the material, then let out a sigh. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

Francis smiled and linked his arm with Matthew's, leading him into the store. The others followed behind.

Inside there were glossy wooden floors , strewn with tasteful, thick rugs. The store was filled with mannequins in every manner of dress. Some also sported veils or jewelry. It was a well lit space, with most of the light coming through the windows or from the crystal chandeliers hung intermittently around the store. A trim, well built man with white hair in an immaculately tailored gray suit turned to face them as they stepped inside. As soon as his eyes landed on Francis he smiled warmly and approached the group with his hands out. Once he was close enough he took Francis' hands in his and shook them.

"Francis, this is a surprise. Welcome. Are you in need of another suit already? No, you must need a repair or an adjustment, correct? You would have come to my other shop unless the matter was time sensitive."

Francis smiled warmly and shook his head. "Non Monsieur Grieve, I am not here for business apparel today." Francis's gaze slid meaningfully to a blushing Matthew and after a moment's pause the tailor's smile widened.

"This _is_ a treat," Mr. Grieve said, stepping in front of Matthew and reaching for his hand. "You must be Francis' child, yes? It is an honor to meet you! Come, I have a dressing room in the back with more than enough seats to accommodate your party." After shaking Matthew's hand, Mr. Grieve led him further into the store, to the very dressing room he had mentioned. There was a small row of plush, antique looking chairs across from a delicately carved wooden door. There was also a small pedestal to one side, surrounded by angled mirrors that would allow one to thoroughly inspect one's appearance.

Matthew wasn't sure if Mr. Grieve knew that Matthew was male (or in his male form anyway) or if he was simply being discreet and generous because Francis was a valued customer. Either way it didn't seem to matter. Mr. Grieve turned to face him once they were in front of the dressing room and asked, "Now, what did you have in mind, hm?"

"Oh," Matthew willed himself not to flush, failed, and looked away. "I hadn't really thought about it." Matthew glowered as he heard Gilbert snicker softly. He and the others were already seated in the provided chairs.

Mr. Grieve smiled confidently, not seeming put off in the slightest. "Tres bien. I will pull a selection for you, and we will go from there." He gave Matthew's hands a squeeze and turned around, striding out onto the main floor of the shop. Matthew watched him go, feeling both uncertain and a little excited. When he'd picked out his last wedding dress, one that was currently housed somewhere deep and forgotten in the back of one of Alfred's attics, Francis had been too busy to come along at the time. This wasn't about a wedding, of course, but it was a little flattering that Francis had wanted to do this for him.

Another female attendant came forward with water and champagne for their group. She smiled politely at Matthew, set the tray down on a small side table, and began passing out refreshments. Matthew had only just sipped his water when Mr. Grieve returned, carting what appeared to be a massive collection of dresses over his shoulder.

Matthew's eyes widened as he took in the sheer amount of fabric. Mr. Grieve chuckled good naturedly as he opened the door of the dressing room for Matthew. "It seems a little overwhelming I know, but wedding dresses have many layers, not to mention different types of undergarments to keep everything in place. We'll only try as many as you want, you don't need to feel any pressure to come to a decision today."

"Okay," Matthew murmured, still dubiously eyeing the dresses as Mr. Grieve hung them on various hooks around the dressing room. The door to the dressing room was still open for now, and Francis, Feliciano, and Gilbert had crept up to it in order to have a closer look.

"Now," Mr. Grieve began, surveying the display of dresses he had arranged, before turning back to Matthew. "Is there anywhere you'd like to start? Do any of the styles appeal to you more than the others?"

Matthew shifted from foot to foot, uneasily perusing the options in front of him. Truth be told he still wasn't sure this was a good idea in the first place, and it was hard to concentrate when he could feel everyone's eyes on him.

"What about this one, Maddie?" a dulcet, voice interjected. Matthew turned and saw a now very female Gilbert stepping into the room. Gilbert's female form was very similar in build to his male form. There was no specific need for a separate wardrobe if he wanted to shift between male or female, a trait which Matthew sorely envied.

Mr. Grieve didn't bat an eye as Gilbert, or Maria (the most common name Gilbert used when in his female form), reached up and pulled down a bright white dress with cap sleeves and a split in the fabric just under the bodice where the white fabric that was embellished with embroidery and appliqués gave way to smooth white satin of the same shade. It was a simple A line dress, not plain, but not ostentatious either.

"Sure," Matthew said, somewhat hesitantly, still glancing at Mr. Grieve. Either he hadn't noticed that Gilbert was male when they arrived, or he knew more about Francis and the personified countries than most people ever did. Usually it was only the leaders or current and past bosses of a country that knew about personified countries, as well as a few select others. It was rare but not unheard of for some humans to know the truth, but this generally implied a high degree of trust.

"Great," Maria chirped, pointedly ushering Mr. Grieve out, and chasing Francis and Feliciano away from the dressing room door. Once the door was shut, Maria locked it and turned back to Matthew. "You've always been thin, Maddie, but I doubt we're going to get this dress on over your clothes."

Matthew jumped, looked down, and nodded. Right. He had to get undressed. In general, personified countries weren't modest. They'd lived through too much history to avoid undressing when it was safe and practical to do so. Matthew was a bit on the shy side, but not around those he knew well, namely Arthur, Francis, Alfred, and Gilbert. Matthew quickly removed his shirt and jeans, pulling off his socks and shoes in the process.

"Alright, first we need to get this corset on you," Maria said, removing a tight, bodice like fabric that had been under the gown.

"I don't think they're called corsets anymore," Matthew murmured as he lifted his arms and assisted Maria in pulling the fabric around his torso.

"Bustier, corset, whatever," Maria muttered as she deftly synched the clasps of the garment, drawing it tighter around Matthew with each movement. "It's meant to support your chest." In his male form Matthew had nothing resembling female breasts, but Maria knew him well enough to assume that he would prefer to remain in his male form instead of trying on anything bustier. Also, _that_ change would be impossible for Mr. Grieve not to notice.

Matthew felt his posture improving as the fabric tugged at him. There was also a modest slip, which Maria easily zipped up, before helping Matthew pull the dress over his head. As Maria adjusted the dress and zipped it up, Matthew looked at himself in the mirror. The dress suited him and, despite the fact that he was doing this without any idea if he would ever marry again, he found himself smiling.

"Ready?" Maria asked, meeting Matthew's eyes in the mirror. Matthew nodded and together they turned to the door. Maria opened the door and allowed Matthew to walk out in front of her.

"Magnifique," Francis cooed, standing and circling Matthew. "It is a soft innocent look. It suits you."

Arthur nodded his agreement, glancing away and rubbing at his eyes. "Yes, it looks very nice."

Matthew flushed, caught between pleasure and embarrassment at their praise and obvious emotion.

Ludwig was more reserved, but even he was smiling approvingly. He turned, possibly to ask Feliciano his thoughts, or to check on him since he hadn't said a word, only to find that he wasn't there. Ludwig quickly got to his feet. "Feli?!"

"Here I am, Luddy!" Feliciano called, sauntering out of Matthew's dressing room resplendent in another white dress with cap sleeves, beading and appliqué throughout the bodice. Ivory beading separated the synched bust of the empire waist, the beading and appliqué continued down the skirt, ending in a lacy embroidered hem. "Don't I look like one of the Bennet girls?"

"Feli, we are not here for you!" Ludwig insisted, his voice bordering on yelling.

"It's okay, Ludwig," Matthew insisted, smiling at Feliciano's exuberance. Feliciano's female form was also similar to his male form but, like Matthew, he rarely bothered to change to his female form when he wanted to wear dresses. "I think Feli looks a lot like one of Austin's brides."

Mr. Grieve shrugged. "The more the merrier, I suppose. The more important question is what do _you_ think of _your_ dress, Maddie?"

Matthew glanced down at himself, and then cautiously approached the mirrors. "I like it, but I'm not sure about this split fabric in the front."

Mr. Grieve nodded, his eyes scanning the dress. "I have some smoother silhouettes picked out for you."

"Time for dress two!" Maria declared, looping her arm around Matthew's shoulders and guiding him back towards the dressing room. "You too, Feli," Maria called, holding her hand out to Feliciano, who gladly accepted it, all but skipping into the dressing room alongside them.

"Alright," Maria said, once the dressing room door was closed once more. "Feli do you need help with your dress?"

"No," Feli replied, already bending and shifting his arms to undo a long row of buttons. Shrugging, Maria stood behind Matthew, pulled the zipper down, and helped him step out of his dress.

"Before we change undergarments, you should pick your next dress," Maria suggested, "You might pick one that works with what you've already got on.

Matthew looked around, biting his lower lip as he considered his options. "What about this one? He asked, stepping up to a ball gown with off the shoulder straps, a bodice heavily decorated with pearls and beads, and a full, tulle skirt.

Maria nodded slowly to herself as she pulled it off the wall. "This has some potential," She agreed, pulling out the fuller slip that Matthew would need. She handed Matthew the new slip, and while he worked on the transition between the two slips, Maria turned back to Feliciano. "What about you, Feli?"

Feli was looking wide eyed around the room. "They're all so pretty," he gushed.

"What about this one?" Matthew asked, causing Feli and Maria to turn around. Matthew was holding a rose gold colored dress with strap sleeves. It had a simple swirling gold pattern throughout the fabric, an A-line silhouette, and a small silken gold belt at the waist.

"Oh that's pretty," Feliciano murmured, reaching for the dress and slipping it over his head It was a simple but elegant dress and the zipper gave him even less trouble than the buttons had.

"That looks great!" Matthew said, smiling as Feliciano turned this way and that, admiring himself in the mirror.

"Grazie," Feliciano replied, beaming at Matthew through the mirror.

"We would like to see!" Francis called through the door.

Maria rolled her eyes. "Keep your panties on, Francis!" She crossed the room back to Matthew, and helped him pull the plush ball gown over his head. "You're not getting out of this by trying to shift the attention to Feli," she murmured, as she knelt to straighten the layers of the skirt.

"I'm not trying to get out of anything," Matthew protested. He wasn't, he was just so used to being in the background it felt more comfortable to share the spotlight than to have it all to himself.

"You look wonderful!" Feliciano cried, holding a piece of Matthew's skirts in his hand, watching it flutter back into place as he dropped it.

"Thank you," Matthew murmured, grabbing Feliciano's hand as Maria stood behind him and secured the zipper of the dress. "Let's go."

Feliciano giggled as they made their way outside the dressing room once more.

"These are both show stopping dresses!" Francis exclaimed, standing to walk around both Matthew and Feliciano approvingly.

Matthew and Feliciano murmured and cried, "Merci," and "Grazie!" in turn.

"You will certainly have everyone's attention," Ludwig agreed, though his eyes seemed glued to Feliciano.

Matthew smiled, watching a light blush work its way across Ludwig's cheeks. He had always been very reserved, but he never could hide his affection for Feliciano. Matthew suspected that more people might be aware of his affection for Gilbert if Feliciano wasn't also in the equation, especially when Ludwig's gaze slid appreciatively to Gilbert (who was still in his Maria form), and Gilbert sent him a flirtatious wink.

"You are both stunning," Arthur agreed, moving to stand beside Francis. "What do _you_ think of your dresses?"

Matthew and Feliciano turned to the mirrors, each standing on either side of the pedestal.

"It's very pretty," Feliciano murmured, spreading the fabric of the skirt in his hands. "It feels more like an evening gown than a wedding dress, though."

Matthew nodded his head in agreement. As much as the color brought out Feliciano's natural glow, it didn't seem quite right for a wedding. Not that he knew if Feliciano, Ludwig, and Gilbert intended to have a ceremony or make it public if they did, that was always a personal decision. Given the matching rings they were all wearing, perhaps they were already married.

Shifting his gaze back to his own dress, Matthew ran his hands over the bodice, then the skirt. "I don't think this one is right for me either. It's… it's too much." It _was_ a beautiful dress, but if he actually intended on getting married this would feel too formal, or impersonal, more like a political costume than a personal dress.

"Picking the right dress can take a long time," Mr. Grieve observed, handing both Matthew and Feliciano a glass of water, which they drank gratefully. "Don't be discouraged."

Matthew smiled as he passed his glass back to Mr. Grieve. "I'm not," he assured him. In fact this was much more fun than he'd anticipated it would be. Both choosing and wearing the wedding dress for his marriage to Alfred had been simple, forgettable experiences. While it had been Matthew's idea to wear a dress to begin with, going to pick it out _alone_ hadn't been fun at all. Matthew never would have thought of trying on another wedding dress, even if it was just for fun, but he was glad that Francis had suggested it.

"This is fun!" Feliciano agreed, almost twirling in place as he played with his skirt.

"I want to see some lace on both of you next time!" Francis insisted.

A smug grin settled onto Maria's face. "I know just the ones! Come on you two!" Feliciano cheered and rushed into the dressing room with Matthew following more sedately behind him.

Once the door was closed, Maria linked arms with Feliciano and led him over to Matthew. "The dress I have in mind for you will restrict your movement, Feli," she explained, "so I need you to help me with Maddie's next dress first.

"Okay," Feliciano agreed in his usual energetic fashion.

Maria nodded, then turned to Matthew. "I want this one to be a surprise, "she insisted. "Close your eyes." Matthew did, with only minimal grumbling. He lifted his arms obediently as Feliciano and Maria lifted first his gown, then his slip off over his head.

"Keep your arms up," Maria instructed. Matthew obliged her and felt a new slip settle over his hips, followed shortly by another large gown. He didn't peek, even as they pulled his arms through the short cap sleeves, settled the skirt, and pulled the zipper up the back. It was tight against his ribs. Not too tight, it was a perfect fit actually.

"Open your eyes, Maddie," Maria murmured, her voice close to Matthew's ear. His eyes fluttered open and his mouth fell open shortly afterwards. This bodice had intricate pearls and beading, just as the last one had, but it was fit closer to the body, and the cut of the bodice and the sleeves was more elegant. The skirt was his favorite part. It was ivory tulle with white lace appliqués, and a delicate lace hem. It was romantic and traditional without being showy.

It was _perfect_.

"I think we found a keeper," Maria giggled somewhere off to his right. Matthew turned his head only to gape at the tight lace, off the shoulder trumpet dress that Feliciano was now wearing. Matthew hadn't thought he'd been staring at himself long enough for Feliciano to change, but he must have been. Feliciano's dress was a brighter white than Matthew's mostly ivory dress. It showed off Feliciano's figure nicely, and even though the lace of his dress was as white as the rest of the fabric, it stood out beautifully in the flair of the skirt.

"You look fantastic," Matthew observed.

Feliciano smiled brightly. "Thank you. You look very pretty too; I think this is the best dress you've tried."

"Let's not keep the audience waiting," Maria said, pulling open the door of the dressing room and ushering Feliciano outside.

Francis actually whistled his appreciation, which prompted Arthur to nudge him in protest. Francis, unconcerned, turned to Arthur with a lascivious smile and winked at him. "Not to worry, Cher. I am only looking."

Arthur frowned and wasn't entirely mollified until Francis leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple.

Ludwig was silent, but Matthew could see the blush growing on his cheeks through the open door of the dressing room.

Maria chuckled, then turned back to Matthew and motioned that he should also leave the dressing room. "Come on, Birdie. Don't get shy on me now."

Matthew nodded and stepped forward. He wasn't feeling shy, exactly, but he was anxious to hear the other's reactions. Even if this was just a trip for fun, the dress felt perfect on his body.

Francis's chuckles died in his throat as his eyes landed on Matthew. A soft smile replaced his mirthful one, and his eyes shone. "Beautiful," he murmured. "You look beautiful." Francis's understated response demonstrated the intensity of his internal reaction, and Matthew could only nod as he felt his throat tightening before turning to Arthur.

Arthur was tearing up in earnest now, his curled fingers pressed to his lips. "It's good," he managed after a moment, his voice low and husky. "Very good. It suites you, poppet."

Matthew smiled and managed a quiet, "Thank you."

Ludwig had failed to take his eyes off Feliciano, which Matthew found both telling and amusing. Maria stepped away from the dressing room and nudged Ludwig meaningfully, causing him to shift, clear his throat and redirect his attention to Matthew. "I agree," Ludwig said at last, smiling at Matthew and Feliciano both. "Yes, wonderful."

Maria turned and smiled at Matthew, moving her eyes over the length of Matthew's dress then back up to his face, glancing once at Feliciano. "I think these more than fit the bill. What do you think?"

"I love this one!" Feliciano declared enthusiastically, twisting and turning in front of the mirrors.

Matthew chuckled and turned to look at the mirrors himself. He clasped his hands in front of his waist and nodded to himself. "Yes," he murmured, beaming at himself in the mirror. "This one is perfect."

"Excellent!" Mr. Grieve exclaimed, clapping his hands together in a small round of applause. "Now remember you are still under no obligation to buy, especially not during your first visit, however out store does have a tradition when one of our customers finds a wedding dress they think might be the one. We select veils that match the chosen dress and we also provide small bouquets for each bride to throw into their guests as they would on their wedding day. Would either of you like to participate?"

Matthew and Feliciano shared a brief glance before turning to Mr. Grieve and nodding. Feliciano also added an exuberant, "Sure!"

"Wonderful," Mr. Grieve replied, "I will be right back."

He had to have been gone at least ten minutes, but to Matthew it felt like only a moment before he returned with the veils and bouquets. He handed the long cathedral lace veil to Francis, who was reaching for it, and the waist length tulle veil with embroidered flowers trimming the edge to Maria, who jumped up to affix the veil in Feliciano's hair.

"You look beautiful," Francis murmured, meeting Matthew's eyes in the mirror as he secured the long veil in place.

"Je vous remercie, papa," Matthew replied, feeling a bit giddy when Mr. Grieve handed him a real bouquet of red roses. Matthew looked to Feliciano and found him cradling an identical bouquet of pink roses. Arthur, Francis, Maria, and Ludwig stood by the chairs they had been using to give Feliciano and Matthew room to throw the bouquets. Matthew and Feliciano shared one last grin before tossing the bouquets behind their heads. There was a brief scuffle, then Feliciano and Matthew turned to find Ludwig holding the pink bouquet and Maria holding the red one.

The group burst out into joyous, uncontrollable laughter, even Ludwig who slipped his arm around Maria and pulled her close for a hug.

Matthew never would've thought of or even suggested this trip, but as he wiped happy tears from his eyes he was more than grateful. Here, happy, safe, and surrounded by his friends, he even dared to hope that he might find love again…one day.


	6. Going on Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving forward, one step at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 6: Going on Faith

 

Matthew set down his luggage and one slightly grumpy Kumajiro, then turned to face Arthur and Francis, the only two people he'd ever considered his parents. Matthew was a little apprehensive, but he put on a brave face. He'd been staying in Paris for just over two months now. It was time to go home.

"Thank you so much, for everything," Matthew said pulling both Francis and Arthur into a hug. They held him tightly for a moment before easing back.

"You know you are welcome to come and visit anytime," Francis murmured, his smile a little watery.

"I know," Matthew assured him.

"Yes, don't be a stranger," Arthur echoed the sentiment. "I'm never too busy to see you."

Matthew smiled and leaned forward to give both of his parents a kiss on the cheek. "I've got to run or I'll miss my plane."

"Have a good flight," Francis said, waiving after Matthew as he scooped up Kumajiro and his luggage.

"Safe travels," Arthur called, also waving.

Matthew waved back as best he could until they were both out of sight. His eyes burned, but he didn't cry. He'd had his time to recover; now he had work to do.

 

~*~*~*~

 

It was late morning when Matthew's cab pulled up to his modest cabin just outside of Ottawa. It was situated in a secluded, forested region that his country had so much of. Matthew also had a place in Ottawa proper, as well as Monreal, and one home in each of his provinces. Unlike many of his fellow personified nations, Matthew rented out his other houses and apartments when he wasn't living in them, mostly to people or families in need. While his own responsibilities often required Matthew to travel, inside and outside of his country, it was his little cabin outside of Ottawa that he truly considered _home_.

Gently, Matthew lifted a sleeping Kumajiro and his luggage from the cab. He paused to pay the cabbie before facing the cold, dark edifice of his home. Cold. It was fast approaching summer, why was it always cold when he traveled? Maybe it was an after-effect of traveling at such high altitudes.

Matthew sighed and started moving towards the cabin. It needed a good cleaning and airing out, but as he'd illuminated in his failed letter to Alfred, he was no stranger to vigorous housework at the end of a long day. Matthew suspected Francis or Arthur had emptied his trash after his little episode, because after he threw it in the bin by the desk he hadn't seen that letter again… It was just as well. Alfred and he had said all they had to say to each other.

Matthew opened the door and shuffled inside. It was both stuffy and dusty inside from lack of use. Frowning, Matthew set down his suitcase, opened it, and gently nestled Kumajiro amongst the clothing he'd been traveling with. He'd have to remove Kuma's hair later, but that would be a lot easier than dealing with a cranky miniature polar bear who hadn't gotten enough sleep.

Matthew considered leaving the cabin door open to help with the airing out, but decided against it. It was more than warm enough for insects and he didn't want to deal with an infestation on top of everything else.

Matthew stretched, trying to work out the stiffness in his muscles, and looked around. His cabin had an open design. The front door opened directly into the great room, which spread out into a living area on the right and a small kitchen area partially closed off by an sturdy island that doubled as range/oven and additional counter space. There was a small hallway to the right that led to a storage closet, a bathroom with a shower, a guest room, the door to the cellar, and a small study Matthew used for his work. The stairs to the second story loft were almost immediately to Matthew's right. Upstairs was a loft style bedroom and an ensuite bathroom. It had been a long time, but it was good to be home again.

"Right," Matthew breathed. "Time to get to work." First he pulled off his hoodie so that he was just in a tank top; cleaning was messy, sweaty work. Then he went around meticulously opening every window, ensuring the screens were clean and securely in place. Next Matthew thoroughly dusted each room, dragging all manner of upholstered furniture outside to beat the dust off. He wasn't quite as strong as Alfred, but he was much stronger than his lithe human form led others to believe.

The dusting took the longest amount of time, especially when Matthew found a copy of his wedding album tucked neatly into one of the bookshelves. He knew he shouldn't, but as soon as he had his hands on it he pulled it out and opened it. The book was well made, and held many glossy pages filled with pictures of him and Alfred in their wedding clothes, as well as their guests, the ceremony, and the reception.

Matthew sighed as he ran his fingers over the pictures. It had gone well enough, they had been happy, but even he could see the forced smile on his face in the pictures… How had he been so blind for so long?

Matthew shook himself and stood, closing the book and promptly shoved it into the farthest corner of his bedroom closet. He couldn't get rid of it, not now, maybe not ever. Like it or not, Alfred had been a huge part of his life for centuries… even if they never spoke on a personal level again, it was important to remember their past.

Matthew bent to his task with vigor, leaving no corner undusted. He had become accustomed to smaller spot cleanings to keep his homes with Alfred livable, but now it was just him, and he deserved better.

Kumajiro woke up sometime during the dusting, so Matthew took a break to give him water and a bit of food he'd brought with them in his luggage. Thankfully Matthew had the common sense to remove all perishable foods from the cabin the last time he'd been there, so there was no food waste to deal with. Unfortunately that meant he had to shop for food tomorrow… there wouldn't be enough time today.

After a quick break, Matthew scrubbed the counters, sinks, and the bathrooms. Although his cabin was modest, Matthew had procured a very large soaking tub several years ago for the ensuite bathroom. It, much like this second house, so close to Ottawa, was one of the few extravagances he indulged in. After so many long, bitter winters when the threat of death from exposure was very real, Matthew had grown rather fond of watching the snow fall from a hot bath.

Matthew knew his human form wouldn't stay dead as long as his country lived, but the few nations who had reformed after a death because of illness, injury, or exposure were not the same person after they had reformed. Francis had compared it once to looking at the different facets of a jewel. As personified nations they were each of them complex, but they were also only one facet, one possible representation of their people. When one facet faded away, you could easily look at another and the light of the entire jewel would still be reflected.

Next Matthew turned his attention to the floors, thoroughly sweeping and mopping every one. Matthew paused again for a small break, leaning against the doorway of his back door. He'd pushed open the sliding glass door that lead to the back yard. There was no fence, he didn't need one, nor did he want one disrupting his view. He watched idly as Kumajiro ran around the woods, chasing squirrels and birds, crunching in the fallen leaves of years past. Matthew did have a small garden, but he kept the forest around his house largely undisturbed because he saw nothing he could do to improve it.

Matthew's eyes flickered to the setting sun and he frowned. He'd need to keep moving if he wanted a comfortable bed to sleep in tonight. He fetched a large laundry basket and laboriously carted as many clothes, towels, and bed sheets as he could carry down into the basement laundry room. He set the sheets to run through the wash first, while he ran the pillows in a short dryer cycle to fluff and freshen them. After the pillows were dry, Matthew carried them up to his loft bedroom on the second floor, and then stopped in the kitchen to order take-in. After all this work soda pop, pizza, and cinnamon rolls sounded like a fantastic way to end the evening.

Matthew grabbed a quick shower, changed into his sole pair of clean pajama pants with an oversized t-shirt, and just barely made it to the door in time to pay for his dinner. Kumajiro munched happily on his portion while Matthew put the sheets in the dryer and ran another washer load for his clothes. He'd wanted to wash the comforter too, but his aching limbs and tired eyes made it clear he'd pass out before that point.

Finally, Matthew settled down to dinner. The pizza was still warm, thank goodness. Matthew ate quickly, ravenous from the work of the day, and was more than a little tempted to sink into a dreamless sleep on his bare mattress. Only the knowledge that he wouldn't sleep well if he did that gave him the strength to persevere another few hours. It was bad enough that he'd have to sleep without a comforter. Granted, it was warm enough he wouldn't really _need_ a comforter, but he was an artic nation, and after the frigid winters he had survived, he never felt quite right unless he slept under a comforter. He at least had to have his sheets and blankets, even if Kumajiro would be more than happy to cuddle during the night.

With a sigh, Matthew stood and brought the leftover pizza, soda pop, and cinnamon rolls to the fridge. The soda slid neatly into the door, and despite his sweet tooth Matthew hadn't even touched the cinnamon rolls, so they were set down in the fridge in their original packaging. Mathew then meticulously wrapped each leftover pizza slice in tin foil before setting them in the fridge and leaning the empty cardboard pizza box against the recycling bin.

Matthew checked his watch. He still had twenty minutes before the sheets would be dry enough to make the bed. Groaning and stretching, he stumbled over to his study. It was a simply room with a desk along the far wall, just under a window. It was night now, however, and the curtains were drawn. There was a soft, colorful area rug on the floor, several book shelves along the walls, and a small armchair tucked into one corner for lazy reading days.

Matthew pulled out his desk chair and booted up his computer. It didn't take long. Matthew took good care of everything that belonged to him, and he didn't overload his processers with endless games like Alfred usually did…

He scanned his e-mails. There weren't many, which wasn't a surprise considering that he'd tried to keep up with work while he'd been away. It was all business as usual. Meeting notes in one e-mail, a reminder of the upcoming summer conference in another. Matthew smiled when he saw an e-mail from Gilbert and clicked on it.

 **From:** Gilbert Beschmit

 **Sent:** Wednesday May 10th, 2017

 **To:** Matthew Williams

 **Subject:** Hey there.

_Hey Birdie,_

_I hope your flight went well and you're home safe. I wanted to thank you for hanging out with Ludwig, Feliciano, and me when we were in Paris. It was good to see you again, and the wedding dress shopping was so much fun! I think Feliciano and I might finally be able to convince Ludwig to make it official… we'll see. Feli's so easy going, maybe it only bothers me._

_Anyway, I wanted to let you know I was thinking of you, and I hope to see you again at the summer conference. If you want me to mess with Alfred just let me know! :P_

_Also, if you need anything, or just want to talk, let me know._

_Have a good one,_

_Gilbert_

Matthew nodded to himself and flagged the e-mail so that it would be easy to find and reply to once he'd had some sleep. He was grateful for Gilbert's friendship, but it was starting to rankle that _everyone_ was asking him how he was with those soft, sympathetic expressions, or reminding him that if he ever needed to talk, that they would be there. He didn't _want_ to talk. He wanted to move on. He was angry at Alfred, and angry at himself for not seeing the truth sooner. He was hurt, but he'd lived long enough to know that most pain was temporary, and any pain that wasn't temporary, well, he could find a way to live with it.

Matthew leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingers into the back of his neck. Speaking of pain, his whole back ached. Matthew spent a few minutes massaging his neck and shoulders as well as he could. Tomorrow he would have to finish the laundry, buy some groceries, and organize a work schedule for himself. …ugh. Just the thought of his schedule was exhausting. He didn't want to stop though. He'd wasted too much time waiting on someone who would never follow through. Now that it was just him, he'd fill the time productively, forge new friendships, and build a life entirely without Alfred.

Matthew rubbed his tired eyes and sighed. There was still five more minutes until he could change out the laundry and sleep. He decided he might as well check his phone. While he had kept up on his work responsibility through e-mail he had avoided turning his phone on since the night Alfred had found him, and even then he was ignoring two voicemails and five texts.

Matthew pressed the on button and watched the usual series of loading screens. He had three voicemails and fourteen texts waiting for him. Matthew checked his voicemail first.

" _Hey Mattie, where are you? Dude I just beat the final boss in this new game! We need to celebrate!... I guess you're out shopping or something huh? Pick up some burgers from a Mike's Burgers on your way home; shakes too."_

The message ended abruptly and Matthew pressed the button to delete it with a scowl of disgust. Typical. Alfred had been so disconnected from him it wasn't even funny. And he hadn't asked Matthew to pick up food, he's said it as a statement, like it was a given. The worst part was, it had been a given for so long. Matthew had done everything he could to help Alfred or to make their lives together easier, telling himself over and over again that things would get better any day now. The next message started to play.

" _Mattie, dude I don't know where you are, but you need to come back. Do you have a conference or something? I don't think there's another world conference until summer…. Anyway the house is seriously trashed." Alfred let out a small chuckle. "You should have planned better, dude. You're going to be all grumpy when you come back to this. Oh, and I'm almost out of clean clothes."_

Another abrupt ending. Matthew forced himself to breathe deeply for a moment before he pressed the delete button. He was so angry he worried he might crack the screen on his phone before this was done…but Alfred had cost him enough already, he didn't want Alfred to cost him anything more. The next message started to play.

" _DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK?! WHERE THE_ _ **HELL**_ _AM I? God damn it! Francis stuck me on this boat, I just know it. Do you have_ _ **any**_ _idea how crappy the food is on this ship?! No burgers,_ _ **none**_ _. If you wanted to leave, you could have just said_ _ **something**_ _. Shit! I hope you're happy. I hope you're proud of yourself mister high and mighty. I don't know what the fuck you thought you were doing, but you've just gone and done it now, haven't you? Jesus Christ, Mattie I-"_

The message cut off abruptly before Matthew could press the delete button. Alfred had been in the middle of the ocean at the time. Perhaps they'd hit a dead spot for cell reception. Matthew set the phone down with trembling fingers, and braced his hand against the desk for support. It was over. Things with Alfred and he were finished. Alfred would probably be a colossal **dick** the next time that they met, which would probably be at the summer world conference. But there was time before that. Time to fall into a routine, time to work, and time to try to forget.

The buzzer for the dryer sounded form the basement and Matthew stood, more than ready to pull out the dry sheets and fall into them… He paused and glanced back at his phone. As much as he wanted to go, the text messages would be waiting for him in the morning if he left them now.

Growling softly in frustration, Matthew lifted his phone to scan his new messages, already knowing most of what he would see. The texts were mostly from Alfred, and they followed the same general vein and pattern of the voicemails: vague curiosity, demands, reports on the housework that was waiting for him, and then the anger started. At first the texts only relayed minor irritation which built into insults, and then outright threats.

Ice washed through Matthew's veins as he read them. He never thought Alfred would actually _threaten_ him… The texts at this point were also badly misspelled, even for Alfred. Maybe he was drunk at the time?

" _He didn't mean to hit me."_

Matthew shook his head and stopped reading the content of the texts, searching instead for the time stamps on each one. The last text from Alfred had come at about the same time as the last voicemail; there had been nothing since. If Matthew still knew Alfred at all, this would likely be the end of it.

Matthew deleted the lot of them with a few angry gestures and set the phone down again, before _finally_ walking out of the room. It was past time to sleep.

Matthew made quick work of changing out the laundry and pulling the sheets over his bed. For once, Kumajiro didn't rush onto the fresh warm bedding and complicate the process. As soon as he was finished Matthew turned off the lights, set his glasses down on the bedside cabinet, and crawled under the covers.

Despite his fatigue, Matthew found himself staring blindly up at the ceiling. The house was so quiet… The sheets were cold around him, but that, sadly, was nothing new. Despite all the nights he'd stayed up wishing for it, Alfred could rarely be bothered to share his bed in _any_ capacity.

The weight of the mattress shifted under him and Matthew lifted his head, squinting his eyes in the darkness. He smiled when he saw the dark shape of Kumajiro crawl up onto the bed. Matthew patted the space beside him, and after a few curious sniffs at the blanket, Kumajiro walked up to Matthew's side before flopping against him. They both sighed contentedly, and Matthew's hand settled into Kumajiro's thick fur, gently petting him. Matthew finally managed to close his eyes, and concentrated on the solid weight of Kumajiro against him.


	7. Resilience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can get yourself into the worst possible messes without even trying...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 7: Resilience

 

Matthew adjusted the knot of his red tie in the mirror, cursing the butterflies in his stomach. He was always nervous before a world conference, but today he felt doubly so. This would be the first time since spring that he would see Alfred… Alfred hadn't tried to contact Matthew at all in the weeks since Matthew had returned home, and Matthew hadn't told anyone about the threatening messages Alfred had left for him up until his fateful boat ride.

Taking a step back, Matthew looked at himself in the mirror and squared his shoulders. Today was about so much more than Alfred. His long time obsession with Alfred had been an easy excuse not to participate too much in these meetings, but Matthew knew the truth. He'd been shy and hadn't seen any reason to push himself. He saw a reason now, however. Alfred was not welcome back in his life, and while Matthew remained quiet and reserved, he also wanted to make his voice heard.

He had no intention of getting sucked into some of the cyclical and pointless shouting matches he'd seen at so many of these meetings, however. Neither Matthew, nor his people wanted to attract drama. No, he simply wanted to be a presence at these conferences, and represent his people with pride instead of anxiety. It didn't help matters that this summer's world conference was being held in _The United States of America_ , but still, he was determined to persevere.

Matthew gave his suit jacket one last tug before stepping out of his hotel room and making his way towards the meeting room. He watched the patterns of sunlight on the walls as he walked. It was a warm day, and while Matthew appreciated the sunshine, he was grateful for the air-conditioning the hotel provided. It was so strange to think that he had walked out on Alfred almost three months ago…

The elevator doors drew together slowly and as he felt the elevator descend, Matthew braced himself. Sure enough, the moment the doors opened he was exposed to a riot of noise and color. Personified nations were _everywhere_. The lobby was crowded with those who were going to or just leaving breakfast. Matthew remembered Arthur grilling him on the importance of one's actions pre and post meetings and conferences.

" _The game starts long before you think it does. The trick is to always be prepared."_

Game. Why did it have to _be_ a game? Matthew didn't think politics should be a game, and if it had to be, then they were playing the wrong one. Everything that Arthur had explained to him felt like rules generated by a sadistic maniac:

" _First impressions are most important. You never get another chance."_

" _Always wear your best suit, but never let anyone know that it's your best."_

" _Find ways to casually imply that you have more and better skills and belongings than you actually do."_

" _Don't tell the whole truth, always make it seem like you have something up your sleeve."_

Matthew could feel his face twisting in disgust. Arthur was a good person, but every bit of the advice he had first given Matthew about conferences with other personified nations made him sick to his stomach. What was wrong with just being honest and being yourself? Both Arthur and Francis were kind, wonderful people, but Matthew knew them well enough to know when they were 'playing the game'. More than once Matthew wondered if he was really cut out to _be_ a personified nation, or if he was just different….

"Someone looks like they've just bitten into a sour lemon," Gilbert commented, sneaking up on Matthew from behind and looping his arm around Matthew's shoulder.

Matthew's expression morphed into a quiet smile. "Good morning, Gilbert."

Gilbert grinned back at him. "Morning, Birdie. Ah, look at that smile; that's _much_ better. You were just missing a little Prussia in your life!"

Gilbert moved to stand in front of Matthew and looped both his arms around Matthews's neck in an exuberant hug. Matthew returned the hug, then pulled back and replied, "It's always good to see you. I just hate these big meetings, that's all."

"You've got to learn to enjoy the show, Birdie! Bring popcorn and when the fighting breaks out, just casually start eating it," Gilbert chuckled and looped his arm through Matthew's, and walked with him to the free continental breakfast. "It _really_ pisses them off."

Matthew chuckled softly, leaning against Gilbert as they walked. Gilbert had become quite notorious at these meetings. He was even known to sneak in small water pistols and fire them at people when things became too heated. He'd never officially been caught, though, so his water pistols had never been confiscated. He wasn't a goofball all the time, in fact Matthew knew him to be quite serious; he simply refused to tolerate disrespectful behavior in a serious manner.

They took their place in line for food. Matthew grabbed a coffee, adding lots of sugar and a touch of maple syrup, as well as a honeyed pastry. Gilbert, meanwhile grabbed pitch black coffee and nothing else.

"You should get _something_ to eat," Matthew advised. "Just coffee will hurt your stomach."

Gilbert rolled his eyes and reluctantly reached out to grab a blueberry muffin. "Satisfied?"

"For now," Matthew allowed, a sly smile edging onto his lips. "If I don't see you eat it before lunch time I _will_ find and confiscate your water pistols."

"You wound me!" Gilbert declared with a dramatic flourish, careful not to spill his coffee as they walked out of the cafeteria and towards the meeting hall. They would be early, but Matthew preferred it that way. They would be almost alone in the meeting room before the others trickled in, and he enjoyed a quiet start to his morning.

Matthew glanced around as they walked the halls. "Where are Feliciano and Ludwig?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Ludwig's still trying to convince Feli to get out of bed."

Matthew chuckled. That sounded exactly like Feliciano. Then he frowned. Why wasn't Gilbert with them? He'd never been as much of a stickler for the rules as Ludwig, so maybe he didn't care if Feliciano was late. Matthew glanced down at Gilbert's arm, still neatly looped through his as they walked, and thought back to all of the friendly and even flirty attention Gilbert had lavished on him in Paris.

"They don't mind you flirting?" Matthew asked, his voice carefully lowered so only they could hear.

Gilbert shook his head. "No, it's all in fun. Feliciano's never really had eyes for anyone but Ludwig, and now me of course. Plus, you've seen how he can be around pretty women."

Matthew nodded thoughtfully and sipped his coffee. As long as they were all happy, that was what was most important. He'd never been the jealous type either. What had really bothered him when he saw Alfred flirting with other people, was the reminder that Alfred never really flirted with _him_.

They sat next to each other and shared their small breakfasts while they waited for the others. At one point Gilbert dared to reach for Matthew's coffee. His face screwed up as he pulled back from the cup. "Jesus that's sweet. How do you stand it?"

Matthew just smiled and swallowed the bit of pastry he'd been chewing. "I could ask you the same thing about your bitter coffee." He didn't mind sharing food, particularly if he knew and liked the person. Ludwig hated it, and Matthew suddenly couldn't shake the image of Gilbert relentlessly stealing from Ludwig's plate despite his protests.

"It's not bitter," Gilbert protested. "I added salt."

Matthew made a face.

"Hey, it works," Gilbert insisted, smirking at Matthew before taking a long sip from his own cup.

"If you say so," Matthew grumbled, reaching for his own coffee. As much as he wanted to set a new tone for himself in this meeting, all the wishing in the world couldn't make him a morning person.

The others had started trailing in now, and Matthew sat up a little straighter, brushing crumbs off of his hands and suit. Ludwig came in followed by a sleepy looking and yawning Feliciano. He took his seat near the far end of the long table, and Feliciano promptly curled up beside him, folding his arms on the table and resting his head against them. Ludwig glowered at Feliciano for a moment before letting it go with a roll of his eyes.

Gilbert chuckled softly. "He really hates seeing Feli slack off, but he finally learned that if he lets him sleep now, he might actually make it through the meeting awake."

Matthew glanced at Gilbert and found him smiling fondly at his two lovers. It wasn't hard to piece together why Gilbert was stuck to his side, and while he appreciated the protective gesture, he wasn't about to hide behind his friends forever. "You should join them," he urged.

Gilbert blinked and his eyes focused on Matthew. "Are you sure?"

Matthew nodded. "I can take care of myself Gil, go on."

Gilbert smiled gratefully and leaned forward to kiss Matthew's cheek as he stood. "Thank you, Birdie."

Matthew smiled and waved to Gilbert as he went to join Ludwig and Feliciano. Matthew watched him flop down dramatically in the chair beside Ludwig, draping himself against Ludwig's shoulder. Ludwig turned his head and looked pointedly at Gilbert, who grinned unabashedly up at him. Ludwig thrust his chin out, gesturing for Gilbert to sit up, but Matthew observed the barest hint of a smile on his lips. Matthew turned away as Gilbert finally straightened, feeling both happy for, and more than a little jealous of, his friend.

Naturally, Alfred happened to be walking in, just as Matthew was turning his gaze to the door. Matthew felt himself stiffen and inwardly cursed himself for it. Alfred looked as cocky as ever. He strode into the room like he owned the place, grinning and waving at everyone, regardless of if they were looking at him, speaking to someone else, or reviewing some paperwork. Matthew couldn't stop himself from looking for a ring… of course Alfred wasn't wearing his wedding ring. He never had while they were together; why on earth would he start now that their relationship was over?

Alfred slid into a vacant seat that was about as far from Matthew as he could get. Matthew couldn't help but wonder if this was deliberate, or if his proximity to Matthew was the last thing on his mind.

Matthew sighed softly and looked away. What did it matter? They were all but strangers to each other now, and were likely to remain so for the foreseeable future. Matthew pushed the sting of the hurt he felt back and away. He'd given himself time to process those emotions in Paris; now was the time to move forward.

Movement just to his left caused Matthew to turn his head. He looked up into the unreadable violet gaze of Ivan Braginsky. Matthew stiffened again, remembering a meeting several years ago where Ivan had _sat on him_ as if he wasn't even there! Matthew's eyes narrowed. He wasn't exactly glaring, but it was close. Ivan and his unruly temper were famous amongst all the nations, and Matthew wasn't bold enough to challenge Ivan too directly. Still, he didn't want to be sat on again. He was here to work and to start over. Matthew wanted to move on from his relationship with Alfred, and, more importantly, to make his voice heard and recognized at these meetings. Being sat on wouldn't be the best start for his plans.

Ivan hesitated, a slight frown wrinkling his brows. His lips parted minutely and he murmured, "Prostite," before turning and walking away.

Matthew blinked after him, questioning what had just happened. Had he just intimidated _Ivan_ into sitting somewhere else? Matthew watched Ivan take a vacant seat towards the end of the table. He watched as other people filed into the room. The seats near Ivan were among the last to fill, and even then Matthew saw several personified nations shift in their seats as though leaning away from him.

Matthew frowned and looked down at the surface of the glossy wooden table, starting to regret his actions. He knew what it was like to be ignored, and the barely concealed distaste on the faces of some of the nations around Ivan couldn't have been easy to live with. It would hardly be the first time that a personified nation was ostracized; very few nations were relaxed around Germany after World Wars I and II, but that didn't make it right.

Personified nations were living embodiments of their country and their people, but that didn't always mean they agreed with the actions of their people. The personified nations, for example, being fluid in their ability to take male and female form, had never personally struggled with gender identity, presentation, or sexuality. They were, all of them, male _and_ female, wearing the forms that they chose to, or which were most politically convenient. The humans of their different nations, however, often had differing and strong opinions on the subject.

Matthew glanced at Ivan who seemed to be calmly reviewing the meeting agenda, and resolved to approach him during the first break and apologize.

Ludwig cleared his throat, straightening his already straight papers. "I call this first meeting to order," he announced, his voice loud and clear throughout the room. It was tradition for the first meeting of every world conference to include every personified country, and have a topic that was a global concern. It was rare for there to be many meetings beyond the first or last one that included _all_ of the personified nations; it just wasn't practical unless the meeting topic was a truly global concern. It was _also_ tradition at world conferences for the hosting country to begin the first meeting, but Ludwig had long ago taken over for countries who were disinclined to do so, such as Alfred. The rest of the conference's meetings had appointed people as chairperson, depending on the topic.

"We begin this summer's world conference with a heavy topic that affects us all: Human Trafficking." A concerned murmuring circled the large room, and all eyes were on Ludwig as he spoke about worldwide and national statistics, as well as sentencing for the perpetrators and counseling options available for the victims. Matthew frowned as he listened. The numbers were staggering. That, sadly, wasn't a surprise. Very few of the difficulties the personified nations dealt with, even the localized issues, had an easy fix.

After Ludwig finished his review, there was a brief period for open discussion and suggestions. Many countries spoke, but Alfred remained silent, idly drawing _cartoons_ in the margins of his paper. It was sickening. Alfred had several amazing programs within his country. New York and the Pacific Northwest came to mind immediately as hot spots with new laws and highly successful treatment programs for victims. Alfred _should_ be speaking about them, sharing the findings of his people, but he wasn't…

Matthew huffed out a small, irritated breath, and shifted his gaze back to Ludwig, who was just beginning to speak in more detail about his own country.

"No one wants to hear from _you_!"

All head's in the room turned to Feliks Lukasiewicz, the personification of Poland. His green eyes were narrowed to slits. "You could have written the rule book for human trafficking, or human genocide at least!" It was common for disagreements and even sometimes fights to break out at meetings and world conferences. Even so, Feliks's protest felt particularly spiteful. Humans had a hard enough time letting go of the past while not forgetting vital lessons. Personified nations, who were almost immortal, were at least ten times worse.

"I think that is incredibly short sighted out you," Matthew said, and suddenly all of the attention was on _him_. "Ludwig is incredibly skilled at organization and engineering. To shut him out of projects to address this issue would definitely be shooting ourselves in the foot." Feliks was gaping at him, but Matthew pressed on. "In fact I think Ludwig's determination and attention to detail would be well combined with someone skilled in their ability to be flexible and adjust a plan as it is implemented, to maximize results."

There was a moment of tense silence before Francis straightened in his seat and replied, "I agree, Matthieu." Then he turned to Ludwig. "Ludwig, I would be happy to partner with you on an initial plan of action. We could present it to the European Union meeting next month?"

Ludwig nodded. "Ja, danke. I will speak with you after the meeting and set up some times for us to meet between then and now."

A few other European nations expressed interest in attending. There were also some discussions among the Asian and South American nations about meetings and committees they could form in their own section of the world. Alfred was yelling, mostly to himself, about the guns his nation had, and how they could be used to facilitate a reduction in human trafficking. Matthew ignored him and made notes as Arthur addressed him and several other countries in the Commonwealth. Matthew was pleased to see some progress being made, but he wasn't so foolish as to think things would go smoothly. Things _never_ went smoothly in world politics, but that didn't mean they shouldn't try.

As the meeting wound down and Ludwig summarized the meeting notes, he caught Matthew's eye and nodded. Matthew smiled and returned the nod. He was grateful both to have helped his friend, and to have stepped out from his usual subdued position in such meetings.

Matthew glanced at Feliks, who was speaking with a few other countries nearby. His eyebrows were furrowed, perhaps in concentration, perhaps in a frown, and Matthew started to chew his knuckles, a nervous habit. He'd already told himself he would speak to Ivan during the first break. Should he speak to Feliks too? He didn't want there to be hurt feelings between them, even if that was generally unavoidable at some point when one was involved in world politics. Plus Feliks had a reputation for being strongly opinionated and obnoxious… Still, Matthew knew it wouldn't do him any good to fall back into old patterns just because speaking up was difficult. Maybe it would be easy, maybe it wouldn't, but he was _done_ running from difficult situations.

"I would like to thank everyone for attending this meeting and participating in our discussions for a solution," Ludwig said, his voice slightly raised so that it could be heard throughout the room. "This meeting is adjourned."

There was an immediate shuffling of papers and scraping of chairs as the various personified nations collected their things and stood. There was at least a half hour break before different meetings would resume.

Matthew had an hour before his next meeting was scheduled, and he wanted to use his time wisely. As much as he didn't like "the game" of politics, there was always a secondary or even a third agenda to consider. This was technically 'free' time, and Matthew had often spent his free time at world conferences with Alfred or in solitary activities. Now he wanted to check in with his friends…and there was Ivan and Feliks he needed to try to speak with as well. He should probably speak with Ivan and Feliks sooner rather than later… but a quick visit with Gilbert wouldn't hurt anything. Just a quick one.

Gilbert caught sight of Matthew as he politely edged his way through the crowded room and lifted his arms in greeting. "That was awesome!"

Matthew flushed and smiled. "Thank you, Gilbert. I'm glad you think so."

"If you ask me, Feliks needs to be put in his place more often!"

"It wasn't about putting him in his place, Gil," Matthew protested. " I was trying to keep everyone focused on a solution."

"Und we do not want to rile people up again, ja?" Ludwig added, resting his hand on Gilbert's shoulder and looking at him meaningfully.

"I suppose not," Gilbert relented, a bit put out, but he rallied quickly. "I still think you did great, Birdie."

"Ja, thank you," Ludwig added, looking back to Matthew.

"You're welcome," Matthew replied, feeling a bit sheepish because of all the praise. "I'm happy to help."

"Bonjour, Matthieu, Gilbert, Ludwig," Francis broke in jovially, stepping into their little circle. He turned to Ludwig and asked. "Should we talk about meeting times now?"

"Ja," Ludwig agreed, reaching for his phone that was resting on the table and frowning when he saw that Feliciano had nodded off again. As they were on break, however, he let it go with a small roll of his eyes.

Matthew was getting ready to make his goodbyes and attend to his own business when Arthur stepped up to their group as well. Matthew turned to Arthur, not sure if he was merely socializing, or if he was here on further political business, when Gilbert interjected, "Hey, since we're all here for the conference, we should go out to dinner tonight! What do you guys think?"

They all turned to look at Gilbert, then at each other. Ludwig looked mildly irritated, but Matthew suspected that had more to do with having his work interrupted than Gilbert's suggestion.

"Did someone say food?" Feliciano murmured, rubbing his eyes and yawning. They all chuckled quietly.

"I will never say no to a night of good food and companionship," Francis replied at length, glancing at Arthur.

Arthur nodded, glancing at his phone. "I don't have anything scheduled in the evening; I'd be happy to spend some time together.

"It sounds like fun," Matthew agreed, smiling. "I'd like to go." It had been months since their time together in Paris. A group outing sounded like the perfect way to end a long day of taxing meetings.

Ludwig nodded and glanced at his phone. "Shall we all meet in the lobby around 17:00?"

There was a general murmur of assent, and several of those present stopped to put a reminder in their phones. It wasn't that they were worried they would forget, but they wanted to be on time. Ludwig was a notorious stickler for the rules and the schedule. They knew from experience that if they were even a minute late they _would_ receive a phone call.

Out of the corner of his eye Matthew saw Feliks leaving the room. A quick glance verified that Ivan was no longer in sight. Right. If he was going to act during this break, it was now or never. "I'm looking forward to tonight," Matthew said to the group as a whole. "I've got some things to attend to, so I'll see you then, or sooner if we have a meeting." Matthew knew he did have a meeting with Francis and Arthur later in the afternoon. That was convenient, because then they could walk to the lobby together.

Ludwig nodded and waved Matthew off. "Auf Weidersehen, Matthew."

"Bye, Birdie!" Gilbert echoed, waving energetically alongside Feliciano, who was waving sleepily.

"See you at 15:00!" Arthur called out.

Matthew nodded, smiling as Francis, called out one last, "Au Revoir, Matthieu." By the time Matthew had actually extricated himself from the room, he only barely caught a glimpse of Feliks, as he rounded the corner at the end of the hall. Matthew walked quickly, not wanting to draw attention to himself, or make it seem like an emergency by running. He followed Feliks, just barely keeping track of him, outside, and around the building towards the small gardens the hotel offered for its guests. Matthew hesitated for a moment at the edge of the gardens. He didn't really want to _bother_ Feliks if he'd come here to meditate or relax… He could always try to catch him later… Then again, the longer he delayed checking in with him, the more awkward it could be when he finally did speak to him.

Squaring his shoulders, Matthew resolved he would at least walk into the gardens. If it looked like Feliks didn't want to be disturbed, Matthew could always enjoy the gardens himself and hopefully catch Feliks on his way back out.

Matthew rushed into the gardens before he could talk himself out of it, walking along the paths and scanning for Feliks, hoping he hadn't lost him. Finally Matthew spied the faintest glimpse of Felix's suit and he started jogging to catch up with him. Matthew skidded to a halt suddenly, just having cleared several high, thick hedges. Felix was there, but what Matthew hadn't realized, hadn't _seen_ because he'd been following so far behind, was Toris, the personification of Lithuania, who was holding Feliks' hand.

Both Feliks and Toris were older, more reserved personified nations, but there were some rumors that they had rekindled a romantic relationship between them recently. Matthew didn't want to disturb their time alone together. He stepped backwards, and as he did so his gaze flicked up, and he noticed _Ivan_ standing a little ways away from Feliks and Toris, his expression grim.

Matthew's heart leapt into his throat. This _definitely_ looked like something he shouldn't be barging in on. Matthew didn't know if this was a private professional or personal meeting between the three nations, but he didn't want to find out. Interrupting either wouldn't bode well for him. Cursing his poor timing, and praying that he hadn't been seen, Matthew dove around the hedges and into a small alley between two of the hotel buildings. He'd intended to squeeze through the alley, come out on the other side, and, as casually as possible, make his way back into the hotel, which would have worked perfectly…except the other end of the ally was sealed with a sturdy wooden gate. Matthew knew he could jump the gate, but the noise _would_ draw attention, and that was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid.

Matthew pressed himself flat against the wall of the building, tried to steady his breathing, and looked back out into the garden. No luck there. He'd either be seen going around the hedge again, or heard if he tried to scramble through it. He was stuck for it. Whatever meeting was about to happen, he was now an unwilling eavesdropper.


	8. Absolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you are spared when you least deserve it, or expect it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left kudos, comments, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to this story! 
> 
> Trigger Warning: This chapter contains mentions of past abuse and suggestions of addiction. Please be safe
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 8: Absolution

 

Feliks squeezed Toris's hand once more, before Toris stepped away from him. He still didn't think meeting with Ivan like this was a good idea, but Toris did, and Feliks had sworn long ago that he would do anything he could to comfort his long suffering boyfriend. Things had been better for Toris, especially personally, for a long time now, but he still struggled with nightmares…

Toris stepped close enough to Ivan that they could both hear each other without shouting, but no further. It was surreal meeting with him in private like this. There was a time when he had trouble even being in the same _room_ as Ivan. Now… well he wasn't entirely comfortable, but he'd been separated from Ivan for so long…

Ivan shifted and Toris took a moment to study him. His expression still looked stern, but there was an unsteadiness about him that Toris wasn't used to seeing. Ivan had always been so self-assured, confident, and arrogant. The years Toris had spent with Ivan had been one long train of abuses, each seemingly more frightening than the last, until Toris had finally found the courage to leave. It hadn't always been like that. In the beginning, Toris had been attracted to Ivan's quiet strength and innocent smile. It was only after he was in too deep that Toris realized Ivan's smile was often a mask for his anger.

When he left, Toris never expected to speak to Ivan again. Of course they would have to see each other at world conferences and such, but Toris knew he had enough personal and political allies now that he had support whenever he needed it. The early days of his separation from Ivan had been filled with threats, menacing stares, and poorly concealed efforts to get Toris alone. Toris had been afraid to go anywhere without an escort. Thank God for Feliks, his longtime friend, and now lover. He was relentless in his support of Toris, and while he was certainly arrogant in his own way, he was never cruel.

As Toris processed his own trauma and managed his anxiety he had slowly become aware of Ivan's cordial distance. Somewhere along the way the stares and stalking had just…stopped. At first Toris was nervous, thinking that Ivan was simply planning something big and wanted him to be off his guard. It had taken a long time, years in fact, before Toris allowed himself to feel relieved. For whatever reason, Ivan had _finally_ backed off. but slowly Ivan had all but dropped off of Toris's radar. He was free now. He was _safe_.

That is, until Toris received the letter. It was short, surprisingly so considering the weighty topics it touched on, but it was also compelling. It had read:

 

_Dear Toris,_

_I have so many things to apologize for, and I think I must first apologize for writing and sending this letter. I am not blind to the pain it must cause; far from it. If the history that lies between us is too painful, then please do not continue to read. I have caused you enough pain already; I do not wish to add to it. Just throw this letter away, or burn it if the painful memories are too much. I understand, and I will be satisfied._

_If, instead of destroying this letter, you have chosen to read it, I am more grateful than I can express._

_Since you left, I have slowly become aware of exactly what I did to you, how I hurt you. No apology could ever suffice, but that is all I have to offer. The summer world conference will be here soon. If you will allow it, I would like to give you my apology in person, as well as in writing. As I mentioned earlier, if this would be too painful, I understand. If I do not hear back from you, I will consider that to be my answer and I will do my best never to cross your path again._

_Whatever you choose Toris, please know I wish you every happiness._

_\- Ivan_

 

Ivan's voice broke the long silence between them. "Thank you for coming, Toris."

Toris nodded once, but did not speak. He didn't know what to say, or if he even _wanted_ to say anything. He might never have even _seen_ Ivan's letter if he hadn't gotten the mail that day. Feliks was very protective and probably would have burned it. Toris didn't begrudge Feliks his feelings, he'd seen the depth of Toris's suffering more than anyone else. All the same, Toris was glad he had intercepted the letter. Feliks had been so upset by the news he'd just about had an aneurysm, but Toris had actually been inclined to accept Ivan's offer. In no way did he wish to resume _any_ kind of personal relationship with Ivan, but he wanted to see what he had to say for himself.

Lord knows Ivan didn't deserve the chance, Toris had given him plenty of chances when they had been together, but Toris hadn't come for Ivan's sake. He'd come for his own sake. He'd worked hard to get what closure he could. If this meeting helped with that, so much the better. If it didn't, well Feliks had insisted on coming for protection, and it _was_ on American soil. Alfred would hardly need an excuse to show Ivan a bad time. They weren't likely to get any better circumstances, so Toris had accepted Ivan's invitation.

Ivan swallowed and shifted his weight, looking uncertain yet determined. "As I said in my letter...I owe you an apology." Ivan's eyes held Toris's for a long moment. They looked softer and more vulnerable than Toris had ever seen them. "I am very sorry that I hurt you, Toris."

Toris gritted his teeth, feeling old anger and resentments swell to the surface. "And that's supposed to make it all better?!" He might never have seen Ivan look quite this contrite, but he wasn't about to be drawn in by false or fabricated apologies either. Ivan had never yet tried this particular tactic, but Toris was far from blind to the fact that a tactic might be _all_ that this was.

Ivan looked stricken. It wasn't an obvious expression, but the way the muscles around his eyes and mouth reacted gave him away. Toris had spent too many years studying Ivan's face not to notice. Ivan even took a step back before he protested, "Nyet. Nyet, nothing can make it right, Toris. Not after what I've done." Ivan paused and swallowed again before he pressed on. "If there was _any_ way I thought I could make it right, I would do it, but the past can never be undone. I only wanted to let you know that I finally realize what I've done, and how badly it must have effected you."

Toris's breathing quickened and his hands balled into fists at his side. "Is that what we're calling it now? How you _effected_ me? You broke my _bones_ , Ivan! Not to mention what you did to my heart! You beat me and terrified me on a daily basis! Do you know how long it took me to feel comfortable falling asleep at night?! I _still_ wake up screaming sometimes!"

Ivan flinched but he did not look away. He knew every word that Toris spoke was true. Admitting the truth to himself had been devastating. He knew he had to attempt to make amends, and to accept that Toris may find that too painful to contemplate. Ivan felt he had no right to shield himself from Toris's anger.

"I am so sorry, Toris," Ivan repeated, his voice thick. "I do not want that for you. I wish you to find a way to be free of your nightmares, if you can. You didn't deserve what I did to you, Toris, and nothing about your time with me should weigh you down now."

Toris scoffed and half turned away, his arms crossing in front of himself for protection. "I didn't _deserve_ it, huh? And what exactly do you think _you_ deserve, Ivan? Forgiveness?"

Ivan shook his head immediately. "Nyet. There is no forgiveness for what I have done, none."

Toris's lips curled into a snarl. "You should be in _prison_!"

Ivan nodded slowly. He knew he should be in prison for what he had done. Toris had never pressed charges, and Ivan could only assume that had been because Toris had been too afraid to press charges... A fear that _Ivan_ had put in him.

Slowly, Ivan knelt. He watched Toris's eyes grow wide as he did so, but he didn't hesitate. He reached into his pocket, causing both Toris and Feliks to tense. Ivan grasped his phone, pulled it out, and slid it over the rough paving stones of the garden path towards a shocked and frightened looking Toris. He did not rise to his feet, nor did he look away from Toris as he spoke.

"Then put me there. I will confess to everything, demand the highest sentence. It is not enough, but it is all I can offer." Ivan was immobile in the stunned silence that followed. He knew the gravity of what he was offering, and he was not afraid. Personified nations, while nearly immortal, were _not_ above the law. He would likely be imprisoned if Toris pressed charges. Given the general opinion most people had of him, it would not go well. Prisons were ugly places with little hope and desperate people. Ivan knew there was even a chance he'd be targeted and killed. If so, he was ready to accept that. He would reform, of course. Maybe it would be better that way. His bosses would be livid, but that was the usual state of affairs. Ivan knew he wouldn't properly remember this if he was reformed, and his only misgiving was the possibility that another version of himself would target Toris again... He would have to do everything in his power to ensure that did not happen.

Toris' mouth opened and closed a few times, before he clamped it shut and shook his head. "I-I don't want to do that, Ivan." He insisted. "Not for you, but for me. Since I left all I ever wanted was to put the past behind me. It's not perfect, but things are good now. I don't want to stir up old memories by pressing charges."

Ivan blinked. It felt like all the air had gone out of him. He didn't know _what_ to feel. Self preservation told him he should be relieved that he was not going to prison at the moment. Another, very significant part of himself, felt concern for Toris. He hoped that Toris wasn't refusing because he didn't believe he deserved justice. Toris seemed self-assured, but Ivan knew that if Toris was still afraid, that fear might one day fade, as they all hoped it would, and then prison would still be waiting for Ivan.

Toris squared his shoulders and took a step forward, his chin thrust out defiantly. "There is something I want, though."

Ivan look up at him, waiting, still kneeling at Toris' feet.

"I want you to remember what you've done, and the way you feel now. If you're being honest, living with your sins will be more than punishment enough."

Ivan lowered his head in acquiescence. He'd offered complete surrender, expecting nothing in return, and he was not about to change his position. Toris was quite correct in his assumptions. The moment he'd come face to face with the truth of his actions another dimension had been added to Ivan's nightmares. They weren't his only nightmares, not by far.

There was a sharp grating sound as Ivan's phone slid sharply over the stones of the path back to him, sent by one decisive kick from Toris. Ivan didn't flinch as it impacted his knee. He only stared at it, noting with curious detachment the cracks in the glass screen and the scratches in the casing it had suffered from its rough return to him. It was only an object; it's damage would be simple to fix.

" **Never** contact me again." Toris' voice was cold and hard in its finality.

Ivan gave the barest of nods, glancing up just once so Toris would know he'd been heard.

Toris stood for a long moment, silent and still. Then he turned on his heels, and strode back out of the garden the way he had come. Feliks was at his side the instant Toris turned, grasping Toris' hand in his own. Toris glanced at him and felt his breathing ease a bit as their fingers interlocked. It was over now. He was _safe_.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Ivan had no concept of how long he knelt in the garden. The sun moved in the sky, and the summer breeze drifted stray leaves and twigs across the path he was kneeling on, but it didn't feel right to move yet. He wanted to give Toris plenty of time to make his way out of the garden. Ivan also needed the time to think. He had actually expected Toris to take him up on his offer. He'd been quietly making arrangements for months now. It was...odd to think that he was still a free man... He certainly didn't deserve to be, but he _was_ still free.

Ivan took a deep breath and pushed himself slowly to his feet. If he truly had his freedom, then he should honor it by doing the best he could for his nation, and his people, for as long as he could... they were all he had left, after all. He could still serve them, and hopefully guide them in way that was less cruel than he'd been in the past. It would be the only way to honor both his freedom and his words to Toris.

At last Ivan shifted his weight, flexing his stiff joints, and began to walk. The day was not over; he had meetings to attend to. He was still on edge from his meeting with Toris, his emotions were still running high, but Ivan had long experience in controlling his features. Even so, every sight and sound around him seemed magnified. The miniscule gravel under his boot seemed to echo as it scraped the ground. If he hadn't been so keyed up, Ivan might never have heard the sniffle.

The instant the sound of crying registered in his brain, Ivan's head whipped around towards the sound. Was Toris still in the garden? As stoic as he had been, Ivan knew their meeting had been hard on him...

Ivan was just preparing to retreat back the way he had come and give who he suspected to be Toris his space, when his eyes locked on a head of blond hair, barely visible in the small alleyway beyond the shrubbery to his left. _Alfred_. It had to be.

Ivan narrowed his eyes and stepped menacingly towards the alleyway. Tensions had run high between Alfred and him for many decades now, but that was no excuse for this kind of spying. This had been a deeply personal, matter, and he would be _damned_ if he let Alfred get away with this. Alfred loved to sensationalize things, to stick his nose into other people's business. That was _not_ happening here, not today. Not to Ivan, and _definitely_ not to Toris.

"Get out of there." Ivan ground out his words, low and with the promise of violence if they were not obeyed. " _Now_."

The blond head Ivan was staring at whipped around, and Ivan's violet eyes clashed with matching, wide, frightened ones.

Ivan's anger faded slightly and he stepped back as Matthew crept out from the cover he had taken, his eyes lowered and his shoulders hunched.. "I-I'm sorry," Matthew murmured, his voice thick with tears. "I didn't mean to overhear. I was just trying to talk to Feliks, and then I saw Toris and you, and I panicked. I didn't want to intrude. I didn't know the alley was closed off." Matthew gestured weakly to the alley he had just stepped out of. "I'm sorry."

Ivan studied Matthew for a moment. Despite their unofficial designations as twins, Alfred and Matthew weren't terribly similar. Alfred was tall, broad shouldered, with short honey blond hair and striking blue eyes. Matthew was a bit shorter, with a slighter more wiry build, strawberry blond hair, and light violet eyes. Matthew's personality was also vastly different from Alfred's. Where Alfred was brash, bold, and impulsive, Matthew was quiet, thoughtful, and the picture of discretion.

"I would appreciate it, if you would keep this information to yourself." Ivan's words were still hard and clipped, but they were more measured, less violent.

"I will, I promise," Matthew swore, nodding his head vigorously. The situation was undesirable, but Ivan felt he could trust Matthew's word. Now that his pressing concern for privacy was abated, Ivan felt an all too familiar feeling of guilt creep in. He had frightened Matthew only moments after resolving to be kinder and more even tempered. Ivan had almost always been a hard, harsh, and ruthless person. Now, he wondered if he could ever get away from that mentality. He thought he'd made strides, especially since his realization about Toris… Perhaps it would have been better if Toris _had_ taken him up on his offer.

Slowly Ivan reached into his pocket, and withdrew a white handkerchief with delicate sunflowers embroidered in one corner. He'd bought it for himself as a reminder... but it was just an object too. Ivan lifted his hand and held the handkerchief out to Matthew, who peered hesitantly up at him for a few moments before accepting it.

"Thank you," Matthew murmured, swiping at his eyes.

Ivan tried to modulate his voice. He was still agitated, but more at himself now than anything else, and he didn't want to upset Matthew further. "I am sorry for frightening you."

Matthew looked up and blinked at him, the handkerchief held closely to his chest. He swallowed. "You didn't frighten me," he said quietly, then chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully for a moment. "I just…I'm sorry."

"As you said, you did not intend to spy," Ivan replied, his voice low and even. "Keep your word and there is nothing else to discuss."

"No," Matthew protested. "I didn't mean that. I mean, I _am_ sorry I overheard, but I'm also sorry for _you_."

"Sorry… for me?" Ivan asked. The edge of a smile played on his lips, but it was _not_ a happy one. Politics, and his particularly brutal history, had some unusual consequences on Ivan; one of which being that he almost always smiled. He smiled when he was angry, sad, frustrated, confused, or plotting. He supposed he would smile if he was happy, but he wasn't sure. Happiness hadn't been a part of his life for a long time.

Matthew nodded, folding the handkerchief and blowing his nose. "It was really brave, what you did."

"Beating people is not brave," Ivan replied, his voice flat.

Matthew looked up into his eyes again, his expression soft and compassionate. "Maybe not. But it takes a lot of bravery to admit when you're wrong, especially like that, and to apologize." Matthew shook his head. "You were ready to give up everything…" Matthew was sad for Toris too, of course, but it seemed that Toris was a bit closer to truly being able to put the past behind him than Ivan was.

"I did what was necessary," Ivan replied his body and voice stiff and uncomfortable. "Keep your word."

Matthew nodded, "I will." He did not protest again that Ivan was brave, but Ivan could see his opinion clearly in his eyes. Matthew had never been very good at keeping his emotions hidden. More than that, he'd never tried to.

Ivan nodded once and mumbled a brief, "Good day," before turning and walking swiftly out of the garden.

Matthew watched Ivan go, feeling torn. He still felt guilty for eavesdropping, however unintentionally, but he couldn't make himself regret the experience. Ivan had always had a cold, distant, and sometimes intimidating persona. But he had a heart, Matthew had witnessed it, and it wasn't as twisted and cruel as most of the other nation's believed... at least not now.

Matthew glanced down at the handkerchief in his hands. It was white, and had delicately embroidered sunflowers in the corner. Sunflowers were the national flower of Ukraine; this must have been made by Iryna, Ivan's sister. He folded the square of fabric neatly and pushed it into his pocket. He would have to clean it and return it later. At the moment he was more than a little late for his meeting with Arthur and the rest of the commonwealth. Thus resolved, Matthew made his way out of the garden and back into the hotel.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The warm afternoon sun streamed through the windows and beat mercilessly against Matthew's clothing. The hotel was air-conditioned, and he had changed into jeans and a t-shirt, but it still felt oppressively hot. Thankfully, they were about to make their way from the lobby to one of the hotel's restaurants. He was standing beside Gilbert, Feliciano, and a slightly annoyed Ludwig. They were technically one minute past their agreed upon time to meet, but Arthur and Francis still weren't here. They had returned to their own room after their meeting with Matthew to change out of their suits. Matthew had decided to do the same, but apparently he'd been quicker about it.

Matthew smiled when he heard Arthur's laugh. It was faint, but warm and relaxed; the type of laugh that usually only Francis could bring out in him. A few moments later Arthur and Francis rounded a corner and stepped into the lobby. Francis had his arm wrapped around Arthur, and they both wore matching, foolish grins. When Arthur spotted Ludwig and the others he coughed and straightened slightly in Francis's embrace, trying to look a little less giddy. Once they were in hearing range Arthur spoke to the group as a whole. "I apologize for being late."

"Oui. Je suis desole, Ludwig," Francis added. "I was not minding the time."

Ludwig frowned, showing his frustration, but all he said was, "It's alright. We are all here now. Let's go."

Feliciano cooed softly and linked his arm with Ludwig's, leaning into him. Prussia also discretely rubbed Ludwig's back, as if in silent praise for his restraint. Neither gesture was missed by Matthew, who followed after them, smiling fondly.

The restaurant was busy, but the hostess was able to seat them as soon as they arrived. Unfortunately, as far as Matthew was concerned, they were seated at a table in the corner near a bank of windows facing the setting sun. Thin shades hid most of the sun glare, but did nothing for the heat. The others didn't seem to mind. Gilbert and Feliciano actually intentionally sat near the windows, basking in the heat. Matthew managed to secure a seat near the end of their large booth where he was partially shielded from the sun.

"Ah, these world conferences are always so tiring," Francis sighed, leaning back into their booth and wrapping his arm around Arthur's shoulder.

"There are still four more days to the conference," Arthur reminded him, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Ugh, cher, do not remind me. We are here to forget the troubles of the day," Francis lamented, his head still leaned back against their booth.

"I thought it was a productive day," Ludwig ventured. "We laid groundwork for several important things."

"Yeah, but it's always a long game," Gilbert added, leaning slightly against Ludwig's side. "Three steps forward, two steps back."

Ludwig nodded reluctantly and Matthew suddenly felt very tired. It _was_ a long game, and he was relatively young compared to the personified nations sitting around him. Granted it was rare for a personified nation to look much older than 35, with most personified nations that were fully formed appearing to be between 23 and 28. But their physical appearance of youthfulness did not shelter them from the emotional and mental fatigue of being almost immortal. Matthew wasn't as heavily involved in some of the international drama of the day as some other nations were, but the concept still felt draining at times, and he wondered, yet again, if he was really suited to _be_ a personified nation.

The others at the table had drifted on to other, more lighthearted topics, but Matthew was no longer paying attention. Summer plans and holidays held no interest for him. Matthew thought he should make more of an effort to be social, especially considering the lofty goals he'd started out the day with, but for the moment he let his gaze wander the restaurant. The lights inside the restaurant were dimmed. The blazing light of the afternoon summer sun more than lit the restaurant; it seemed to make it glow. Matthew blinked in the bright light, his eyes sweeping almost sightlessly over the other patrons. He was just about to excuse himself to the restroom in order to retreat from the bright heat of the booth they had been seated at, when his gaze skidded to a halt upon encountering one tall, white-blond Russian. Matthew squinted, trying not to be too obvious. There was no questioning it. Ivan Braginsky was seated at a small table in the far corner, nursing a tall glass of what Matthew hoped was water; Ivan's appetite for vodka was nearly as famous as his temper.

Matthew had scraped out just enough time between meetings to clean, dry, and press the handkerchief Ivan had let him use, and he wanted to return it. He took a breath and strengthened his resolve. He was about to reach out in friendship. This wouldn't be like the time Matthew had stood up against Ivan at a meeting, speaking in favor of the independence of the Baltic States. Even at the time Matthew couldn't believe he was doing it, but he hadn't hesitated. It was wrong to keep someone or a people tied to you when they no longer wished to be. Ivan, who had been arguing passionately with everyone who opposed him had fallen into a grim silence during Matthew's tirade, and remained stubbornly silent during the rest of that meeting.

Matthew turned to his companions and murmured, "Excuse me, I'll be right back."

Ludwig and Gilbert nodded their acknowledgment, Arthur waived, and Francis spared a small, concerned look before turning back to the conversation at hand.

Matthew picked his way across the restaurant and hovered at the edge of Ivan's table until he lifted his head and met Matthew's gaze.

"I cleaned this, and I wanted to give this back to you," Matthew began, holding out the folded handkerchief to Ivan. "Thank you for letting me use it."

Ivan blinked and stared for a moment before slowly reaching forward and accepting the small square of fabric. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Matthew replied. He lingered for a long moment, fidgeting from foot to foot, before he added, "I also wanted to apologize again, for, you know, overhearing."

A flicker of amusement passed across Ivan's eyes. "It is fine. We have an agreement."

Matthew nodded. "We do." Matthew glanced back towards his table, then slowly back at Ivan. It hadn't escaped his notice that Ivan was tucked away in a quiet corner of an otherwise busy restaurant. The more that Matthew thought about it, the more isolated Ivan's existence seemed. He'd fought passionately, and vainly to keep the Soviet Union together. Matthew didn't know the specifics, but given what he did know, and what he had inadvertently overheard today, Ivan seemed like a very lonely nation. Not to mention the fact that the whole incident between them began when Matthew had resolved to check in with Ivan, then Feliks, and apologize if he made either of them feel uncomfortable or unwelcome.

Matthew looked back to Ivan and asked, "Would you like to join us at our table?"

Ivan's face grew cold and hard in an instant. "I do not need any pity." The words were ground out between clenched teeth.

"I wasn't inviting you out of pity," Matthew protested.

Ivan's expression remained impassible. He wasn't even looking at Matthew anymore, just staring straight ahead.

Matthew felt an almost irrational anger bubbling up inside him. "You want to stay alone in the corner?" he asked, his voice taking on a hard edge. " _Fine_."

Matthew turned, not quite spinning on his heel, and walked towards his friends without looking back. It hadn't been the most optimistic day for new beginnings, but as Gilbert had said, it was a long game. Three steps forward, two steps back.


	9. Recognition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't move forward without taking a risk, and sometimes the truth is too painful to acknowledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to this story! Your support makes my day! 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter has mentions of addiction/alcoholism. Please be safe.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 9: Recognition

Matthew sighed softly and turned his face up into the cool morning breeze. It was early. Very early. Yesterday had been more stressful than anticipated, and in ways that had nothing whatsoever to do with Alfred. To add insult to injury, he hadn't slept well.

Matthew wasn't really a morning person, but since he was up anyway he was appreciating the soft light and the cool air of an early summer morning. He'd grabbed a small plate of pastries and fruit and headed out into the hotel's gardens to ease into his day without the chaos and noise he knew would come as soon as the other personified nations trickled down for breakfast and prepared for their meetings. Despite the harried events of yesterday, the garden was still the most likely place Matthew would have some peace and quiet.

Matthew had forgone the coffee today; with the way he was feeling it would only upset his stomach. Instead he'd set up his little picnic on a large bench in the hotel's gardens, and was mentally reviewing his schedule for the day. He had an internal affairs briefing and preparations meeting at 9:00am, then at 10:00am he had trade and public relations meeting with Maximo, the personification of Cuba, a foreign aid planning meeting with Emmanuel, the personification of Haiti at 11:00am, and then…

The soft crunch of footsteps on the garden path broke Matthew's concentration, and he looked up with some apprehension to see _Ivan_ walking down the path towards him. He froze, not sure if Ivan was just passing by, or if this would be another confrontation.

Ivan paused just in front of Matthew and held out a small, white paper cup with a cardboard heat protection sleeve around its center. "I brought tea."

Matthew blinked up at him for a moment, and then fought a sudden urge to laugh at Ivan's abruptness as he reached forward and accepted the tea. Instead he smiled and said, "Thank you, Ivan."

Ivan nodded. "Pozhaluysta." He turned to go when Matthew's voice forced him to stop and turn.

"Would you like to join me?"

Ivan studied Matthew, his head tilted to one side. "Why?"

"For some company?" Matthew suggested. "I know yesterday wasn't all that great, but today's a new day. There's no reason not to start over, improve relations and all that."

"You are... very stubborn." Ivan observed, the words coming out slowly, as though he were still thinking about what to say as he said it.

Matthew shrugged. "They don't call me Alfred's twin for nothing." Matthew felt a little pang at the mention of Alfred, but he did his best not to let it show on his face.

"You are not all that similar," Ivan observed, finally taking a seat beside Matthew, the small plate of food resting between them.

Matthew hummed thoughtfully and sipped his tea, trying avoiding lingering on unpleasant memories. The tea was good, rich and smoky. Some cream had been added, as well as some spices he couldn't put a name to. Matthew swallowed, feeling the hot liquid ease down his throat, and then licked his lips. "Thank you," he repeated. "This is good." Matthew thought he saw the hint of a smile on Ivan's lips, so he felt brave enough to ask, "This is your own tea?"

Ivan nodded slowly. "Da. My own recipe too."

Matthew smiled. "I thought so. The hotel didn't have anything but crappy green tea laid out."

The hint of a smile grew on Ivan's face. "I am glad you like it."

Matthew took another long sip of tea before he asked. "How did you know where to look for me?"

Ivan shrugged. "You do not like crowds. It was not hard."

"I was at the crowded breakfast yesterday with Gilbert," Matthew countered.

"That is different," Ivan insisted. "You were with a friend. And you did not stay long in the breakfast room."

"True enough," Matthew relented, popping a strawberry into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. Ivan could be a passionate and intimidating presence at world conference meetings, but he generally didn't say much. Matthew knew from experience that silence left one a great deal of time to observe and to listen. Matthew had heard more things than he cared to just by being silent and still. Part of it was his own innate shyness, and part of it, Matthew felt, was other people's desperate need to fill a silence. Even though he and Ivan didn't really know each other, Matthew felt calm and content sitting beside him in the early morning air.

Matthew glanced at Ivan as he sipped his tea, letting his thoughts drift back to yesterday. He could understand Ivan's defensiveness, considering that Matthew had overheard something so deeply personal, however unintentional. And while Ivan hadn't actually said, 'I'm sorry,' Matthew knew that's what the tea was about.

Even sitting down, Ivan looked tense. His back was perfectly straight and his mouth set in a hard, grim line. Matthew glanced down at the plate between them, then back up at Ivan. He'd brought Matthew tea, but he hadn't carried any for himself. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

Ivan shook his head. "Nyet. Is fine. Meetings will start soon."

Matthew lifted his eyebrows in silent protest before shifting forward and lifting the plate into Ivan's line of vision. "Eat," he commanded. "I can share."

Ivan glanced down at the plate, then over at Matthew. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Matthew insisted, pressing the plate slightly against Ivan's chest. "Eat." They stared at each other for a long moment before Matthew continued. "Eat. Don't make me go to Feliciano. I'll tell him some sob story about how you're really a big softy and lonely for company and then you'll never escape from the biggest breakfast of your life."

Ivan's lips curled up in a reluctant smile and he accepted the plate. "Spasibo."

Matthew returned the smile, relinquishing the plate and returning his hand to his lap. "Poszhaluysta". Ivan glanced pointed at him, a honeyed pastry paused partway to his lips, and Matthew smiled slyly. "Did I say it wrong?"

"You're accent could use some work," I van replied, his pastry resuming its journey to his mouth.

"I'll keep practicing," Matthew promised, smiling as he took a long, satisfying drink from his tea. It was stupid. He was sitting here with someone who was all but a stranger, and it was one of the best mornings he'd had in weeks. He _had_ promised himself he'd branch out more at the summer conference; maybe he was just giddy with his success.

"Are you cold?"

Matthew glanced over at Ivan, and then followed his gaze to his own arm, which was developing a robust patch of goosebumps. "A bit chilly," Matthew admitted, "but it's a nice change of pace."

"You like the colder weather?" Ivan asked, and Matthew nodded.

"Strange isn't it? I know how deadly a bad winter can be, but it's still my favorite season."

"Nyet, is not strange," Ivan protested. "Is my favorite season too."

They spent the next twenty minutes in companionable silence, sharing breakfast and enjoying the morning. At last Ivan stood and stretched. "We should go to meeting now."

"Yeah," Matthew agreed, less than enthusiastically, and began walking beside him. "Thank you for spending the morning with me."

"Pozhaluysta," Ivan replied, his small smile returning. "It was nice."

Matthew nodded his agreement as they passed into the main lobby, depositing his cup and empty plate into a nearby receptacle.

"I hope you have a good day, Ivan," Matthew said, already making his way towards the stairs.

Ivan stared after him for a moment, before slowly adding, "Da. Have a good day also, Matvey."

Matthew smiled at the altered version of his name. Although most personified nations knew at least three languages, that didn't make unusual sounds or consonants any easier. They all compensated as best they could. When he returned to his hotel room and logged onto his computer to attend his virtual internal affairs meeting, Matthew was still smiling.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Arthur sighed softly with distaste as he stepped inside the small, slightly derelict local pub. Alfred had pointedly been avoiding him during the world conference and in the weeks leading up to it. Arthur might no longer be the parental figure he once was, but he still felt a sense of duty to Alfred, on a personal level. _Someone_ had to talk to Alfred about Matthew, and it looked like that someone had to be Arthur.

It wasn't that Arthur expected Alfred and Matthew would get back together. Matthew had adored Alfred for centuries, but Alfred had, intentionally or not, done everything in his power to drive a wedge between Matthew and himself, and Arthur was worried. More than one personified country had followed the road to self-destruction so thoroughly that there was no coming back. Sometimes a new personification reformed, sometimes the nation as a whole was so far gone that the personification and the people simply faded away. Arthur didn't want that for Alfred, and he knew that, deep down, Alfred was better than he'd been acting. Maybe it was too late for Alfred's marriage with Matthew, but it wasn't too late for Alfred.

Arthur's gaze shifted automatically to the far corner and he grimaced when he saw Alfred hunched on a stool at the end of the bar, several empty bottles already lining up at his elbow. Arthur hadn't even needed to scan the pub, he'd known right where Alfred would be situated, and that, in and of itself was both telling and worrying.

Arthur strode over to Alfred's miserable little corner and eased onto the stool beside him. Alfred glanced over and his eyes narrowed in disgust. "How'd you _find_ me?"

Arthur lifted his phone and waved it meaningfully. "You're not the only one who can operate GPS tracking. Kiku was most helpful."

Alfred made a face and lifted his beer to his lips. When he swallowed he muttered. "Kiku's a busybody."

"That's not what you thought when you used him to stalk Matthew this spring," Arthur countered.

"I wasn't stalking Mattie!" Alfred protested, then shrugged and spoke into his beer. "I was just trying to figure out where the hell he was."

"If you knew what the hell was going on, you wouldn't have had that question." Before Alfred could reply, Arthur turned and summoned the barkeeper. "A water and a ginger ale, please." The barkeeper nodded, and Arthur turned his attention back to Alfred.

"You're not drinking?" Alfred's asked his voice thick with distain.

"One of us has to be sober for this," Arthur countered, nodding his thanks to the barkeeper as the water and ginger ale arrived. In truth he'd ordered both in the hopes of getting Alfred to drink one of them. "Ideally we would both be sober, but I'm not sure that's an option at the moment."

Alfred let out a bitter chuckle as her surveyed his small collection of empty bottles. "You don't say?" He looked back to Arthur and his lip curled in disgust. "I know what's happening here, old man. Matthew walked out on me, for _no_ reason, and you're trying to convince me that it's _my_ fault."

"Matthew had several reasons for leaving, Alfred," Arthur corrected him, thinking of the pieced together letter waiting for him at home. He still wasn't' sure if he should show it to Alfred. He didn't want to violate Matthew's privacy, but he also wanted Alfred to realize what he'd done, and what he was becoming. "Very valid ones, I'd say."

"Yeah, you would say," Alfred replied turning towards Arthur and gesturing at him with a bottle in one hand. "All you've ever done is criticize me!"

Arthur's expression softened as he looked at Alfred, and for the sake of the pain Alfred was trying so desperately to hide, Arthur did his best to set aside his pride. "I've been very critical at times," he agreed, "and I think unfairly so." Alfred blinked stupidly at him, and Arthur pressed on. "I'm not a very patient man, Alfred. I never have been. I know that's at least part of the reason that you broke away from me. I don't think I ever told you that I understand why you did it and, now, I agree with your actions."

Alfred blinked at him stupidly. "What?"

Arthur drew in a slow breath and silently prayed for patience. "I'm saying that I understand why you broke away from me, Alfred." Arthur's gaze dropped to the slowly rising bubbles in the ginger ale. "Looking back, I guess I really didn't give you much of a choice, did I?"

Alfred blinked again. "I thought this was about Mattie."

"It's about a lot of things," Arthur clarified, passing the glass of water to Alfred, who in his confusion accepted the glass and reflexively drank from it. Alfred made a face when the taste of the water, or lack thereof, registered. He pointedly set the water down and reached for his beer once again.

"Why are you here, old man?" Alfred asked, his tone filled with frustration once more, his expression guarded.

"Did you know that he spied for you during the Revolutionary War? Well, not Matthew personally, I was more than a bit paranoid and was keeping close watch on all my territories, but he engaged volunteers from his people to spy and smuggle goods for your people, to try to help you achieve your independence."

"Bullshit."

"It's true, Alfred," Arthur protested. "He did it for you, because he's always loved you."

Alfred scoffed and took a long pull from his beer. When he spoke again his voice was cold, hard, and slightly slurred. "Too convenient. If Mattie was doing all this for _my_ benefit, how come he never said anything?"

"I don't know," Arthur shot back, frowning. "Matthew's always been so shy. Perhaps he was too nervous to tell you. Maybe he didn't want you to feel pressured to return his feelings, since you weren't dating at the time!"

"You're trying to turn him into a fucking saint!" Alfred shot back, rising to his feet, his face flushing red. "He left for _no_ reason!"

Arthur slumped down in his seat, the wind seemingly knocked out of him. When he spoke his voice was soft and his gaze was searching. "You _really_ think that, don't you?"

"Damn straight!" Alfred replied, almost shaking with the tension he was holding in his muscles. Alfred _almost_ looked ready fight. If he hadn't been swaying where he stood, obviously fighting for balance against the alcohol, he might have already taken a swing at Arthur.

Arthur closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands for a moment, before forcing his hands back to his lap, his gaze locking with Alfred's once more. "There is more to you than this …this…" Arthur gestured vaguely at Alfred, trying to put works to his frustration. At last he reached for the half empty bottle, snatched it out of Alfred's hand and waved it violently in front of Alfred's face. "There is so much more to you than _this_!" Arthur pulled back sharply as Alfred reached for the bottle, shaking his head. "You've let it consume you!"

Alfred stumbled as Arthur snatched the bottle out of reach and leaned heavily on the bar for support. "Are you calling me a drunk?!"

Arthur set the bottle down, well out of reach of Alfred, and then eyed him warily. "It has been a growing and concerning habit this past year. But even if you hadn't been drinking, I think Matthew still would have left you."

"Yeah?" Alfred scowled, straightening, though he still kept one hand on the bar for support. "Why's that?"

Arthur replied with more calm than he really felt. "What's his schedule like, Alfred?"

Alfred's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"What was Matthew doing, outside of work, before he left you?" Arthur pressed.

Alfred shrugged, his grip tightening on the bar for a moment to keep him steady. He refused to sit down. "I don't know. Reading. Hiking. Something." Alfred pursed his lips in intense concentration for a few moments before he added, "Before the wedding he was talking about starting a garden at one of my houses, but I have to move around from state to state, and meeting to meeting; there wouldn't have been any point." Alfred nodded to himself, and squared his shoulders before looking defiantly back at Alfred. He'd remembered what Mattie was doing just fine.

Arthur's frown deepened and he asked, "When's the last time you've spent any time in Canada, at one of Matthew's homes?"

Alfred barked a laugh. "What would be the point in that? Mattie's always letting them out to his people."

Arthur leaned in, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Even his cabin outside of Ottawa? I thought he kept that just for himself."

"So what if he did?" Alfred countered, sitting hard on a barstool as he gestured wildly with his arms.

Arthur's eyebrows inched higher on his forehead. "Your schedule is more important?"

"Exactly!" Alfred cried, raising one hand in triumph before it fell back to the bar and started inching towards his neglected drink. "Man, I was starting to think you'd never get it!"

Arthur pressed his hand down over Alfred's, stopping its forward momentum towards the alcohol. "Can you even hear yourself, Alfred? You don't know what's going on in Matthew's life, even though he's spent the majority of his time with you, in _your_ country, for the past _two_ years!"

"I remembered that stupid garden he wanted to start," Alfred spat back, trying to wriggle his hand free.

"That was almost a year ago!" Arthur took a breath and tried to lower his voice. This was important. He needed to keep his head so that hopefully _something_ he said would get through. "Not only that, but it's something _he_ wanted to do that you completely dismissed."

"What was I supposed to do?! Let him plant the damn thing, then be sad when it died?!" Alfred was trying to wiggle out of Arthur's grip in earnest now, and shoved hard at Arthur's shoulder, trying to get some distance.

"I don't _know_ , Alfred! Maybe you both could have hired someone to look after it, or helped Matthew picked out a few plants that traveled well. My point is that you don't have a partnership with him! It sounds like you barely even had a friendship with him before he left!"

Alfred finally ripped his hand free from Arthur's crushing grip and used both hands to violently shove Arthur away. "Fuck off!"

Arthur stumbled off his stool, but managed to keep his feet. Their argument had attracted more than a little attention now. Arthur could see the bartender starting to come their way, and lifted a hand in the hopes of keeping him at bay just a few moments more. The bartender _did_ stop, but the look on his face made it clear he expected a quick resolution. Arthur turned back to Alfred who was seething, his breath coming in shallow pants. Arthur shook his head and dared to lean close to Alfred once more. When he spoke, his voice was soft, and his eyes were full of sympathy. "One day you are going to realize what you lost, Alfred. I pity you the shock you're going to feel."

"I said, _fuck off_ ," Alfred ground out, and Arthur pulled back with a pained expression.

"I'll leave," he assured Alfred, "Just know that when you do finally come to your senses, my door is always open if you want to talk."

Alfred growled unintelligibly once more as Arthur turned away and strode towards the exit. He wished he could spare Alfred some of the pain he was bringing on himself…but some lessons could only be learned _with_ pain.

Arthur squinted when the bright, unrelenting sunlight hit him square in the face. It was such a sharp contrast from the dim shadows of the pub… Arthur didn't pause at the doorway, or look back. Alfred was clearly not in the mood for any further discussion today.

Arthur walked for a few blocks, his hands in his pockets, his head tilted down. He was so focused on getting back to the hotel that he nearly jumped out of his skin when a warm familiar voice spoke close to his left, "Cher…"

Arthur's head snapped up and he saw Francis push off from the wall he'd been leaning against and closed the distance between them with a tight hug. Arthur, who could be prickly about public displays of affection at the best of times, clung tightly to Francis, willing his hands to stop shaking.

"They will figure things out, Cher," Francis murmured. "I have faith in them."

Arthur didn't reply, he just rested his forehead against Francis's shoulder, grateful for his support and understanding. It was _so_ hard to watch his children struggle.

Francis lifted one hand and stroked his long fingers through Arthur's straight blond hair. "Remember how long it took us?"

Arthur choked out a humorless laugh. "We were so foolish…"

Francis pressed a gentle kiss to Arthur's temple. "I do not think they will have anything like a hundred years war between them. Matthew is too sensible for that."

"I hope so," Arthur replied, pressing himself into his lover's embrace. He was so, so grateful for what he had with Francis, no matter how hard won. Love was never easy, but it was _always_ worth it.


	10. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew tries to break the ice and Kumajiro is hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. Special thanks goes out to anyone who had left kudos, commented on, subscribed to, and/or bookmarked this story. ! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 10: Connection

 

Matthew fidgeted in front of his computer. He was wasting time and he knew it. He'd already checked and replied to all of his personal and business e-mails, completed a virtual conference with his boss, and caught up with all of his paperwork. Now he was just stalling.

It had been two weeks since the summer world conference, and Matthew had been trying to make good on his promise to himself to open up and build new bonds. As far as his friends were concerned it was working. Although the nature of their existence and their jobs kept them physically apart more often than not, Matthew had been much more consistent and thorough in his correspondence with them. He'd even spent some time playing online games with Gilbert and Feliciano.

Matthew had been active with his people as well, but it was rare for personified countries to have any human friends, and even rarer to have friends close enough to know that personified nations existed. It wasn't that humans couldn't be wonderful friends, companions, and even lovers of personified nations, but Matthew couldn't seem to muster the energy of strengthening the connections he had with humans who were unaware of his status as a personified nation; he just didn't want to deal with the shock and potential fallout. Those humans who did know Matthew's true nature were all closely connected to the government of his nation, and not really friendship material. Perhaps it was something he should work on in the future, but for now he was focusing on baby steps, which was why he had resolved to send Ivan a personal, not professional, e-mail.

Ivan had been one of the few personified nations that Matthew had spent any significant time with during the last world conference. Matthew had meant to do more real socializing, but what had passed between himself and Ivan had shaken Matthew up more than he wanted to admit, and he'd spent the remainder of his free time at the conference focusing on his family and friends. It was better than hiding alone in his room with only books for company... but not by much.

Matthew looked over to Kumajiro, who was currently curled up on the rug beside the computer, the summer sun steaming in from the windows warming his fur. Kumajiro grumbled softly, stretched himself flat, and blinked sleepily up at Matthew. "Just send it!"

Matthew flushed and turned back to his computer. Right, now was the time. Without giving himself too long to think about it, Matthew opened a new e-mail, and got to work:

 

 

_Subject: World Conference_

_From: Matthew Williams_

_To: Ivan Braginski_

_Sent: 07/11/2017 1:39pm_

_Hello Ivan,_

_I hope you are well. I wanted to thank you for sharing breakfast with me at the last world conference._

 

Matthew's fingers stalled above the keyboard, uncertain what to type next. What he'd already written was okay, but he wanted to avoid being stiff or awkward. He needed to choose his words carefully. The problem was, he didn't really _know_ Ivan. He knew a bit about him from their work together, and he could guess at quite a bit more, but people weren't always what they seemed to be. Guessing based on what you thought was true was more likely to leave you embarrassed than anything else. After a long pause, during which Matthew seriously considered just walking away from his computer, he resumed typing.

 

_Also, I was wondering if you would be free to talk over video chat sometime on Friday or Saturday? Let me know what works for you._

_Thank you, and I hope you have a great day,_

_-Matthew_

 

Matthew sat back in his chair and scanned what he had written. It was a bit short, but it invited the opportunity for more. Plus, with a visual connection Matthew would be able to see Ivan's body language, and that would give Matthew a better idea of Ivan's state of mind. Matthew had never done well with written communication. He always seemed to miss when someone was joking or when they were subtly upset.

Kumajiro sighed loudly and Matthew turned to look at him. Their eyes met and they stared at each other in silence until Matthew felt compelled to ask, "What?"

"Send it already, I'm _hungry_!" Kumajiro whined.

Matthew smiled and leaned down to ruffle the fur on Kumajiro's head. "Alright, alright. I'll get you a snack."

Straightening in his chair, Matthew pressed the send button on the e-mail, and tried not to think about it too much. Instead he pushed out from the desk and moved to the kitchen to cut up some fish for Kumajiro.

Matthew tried not to be obsessive, he really did. He knew he shouldn't expect a quick reply. Personified nations were very busy, and his request had been a personal one, not a professional one; business had to take precedence. It would be best to keep busy and get his mind off it, so Matthew got to work. He let Kumajiro eat his snack, played with him outside, brushed out his fur, and even grabbed a broom to sweep up the floors.

Despite all this, the moment he was back in his study, Matthew set the broom aside and strode over to his computer to check his mail. He told himself he would glance at his inbox this _one_ time, then shut down his computer for the day to avoid temptation. He could take a hike, make some dinner, and break into a new book; these were all things he enjoyed... but the prospect of _another_ quiet evening at home felt so empty...

Matthew's eyes flittered over the screen and he had half pulled away again before he realized there _was_ a response from Ivan. Surprised, pleased, and hesitant, Matthew sat properly in his computer chair and opened the message. It was short, like his own, and it read:

 

_Subject: Re: World Conference_

_From: Ivan Braginski_

_To: Matthew Williams_

_Sent: 07/11/2017 2:17pm_

_Greetings Canada,_

_I have some open time on Friday about 8:00pm Eastern Standard Time. I will draft a meeting schedule and send it to you on Thursday by 8:00pm. Are there any items you wish to be on the agenda?_

_\- Russia_

 

Matthew rested his head in his hands and groaned softly. He thought he'd been perfectly clear! Frustrated, Matthew straightened and typed an immediate reply.

 

_Subject: Re: World Conference_

_From: Matthew Williams_

_To: Ivan Braginski_

_Sent: 07/11/20017 4:00pm_

_Ivan, this was_ _**not** _ _a request for a business meeting. I just wanted to talk, like we did that morning at the world conference. Are you still free Friday at 8:00pm?_

_\- Matthew_

 

This time Matthew sent the e-mail without hesitation. Then, instead of shutting down the computer, he closed the laptop, stood, and continued with his plans for the evening. Ivan's message to him hadn't soothed Matthews nerves in the slightest, but he was _not_ going to spend the evening waiting for a reply, that wasn't healthy. Instead he forced himself to gather the necessary supplies for a hike, and he walked out the door with Kumajiro in tow.

The summer heat could be blistering on the trails, but the lush foliage offered a welcome sanctuary. Less than a minute into the hike Kumajiro dove into the piles of leaves that perpetually littered the forest floor. Matthew smiled, his mood lifting as he watched his long time companion roll and tussle in the crinkly piles.

Matthew tracked Kumajiro's progress, deftly stepping behind a large tree when Kumajiro wasn't looking. Matthew slowed his breathing, and his eyes fluttered shut as he listened to Kumajiro. The rustling continued for another two minutes before coming to an abrupt stop. A wicked smile swept over Matthew's lips and he dared to peek out from behind the trunk. Kumajiro was back on the trail, posture alert, nose lifted to the wind, and facing away from Matthew's hiding place.

_Perfect._

With a childish cry of attack Matthew dove out from behind the tree and tackled Kumajiro. The miniature polar bear yipped with surprise and delight before growling playfully and trying to push Matthew down. Kumajiro was strong, but Matthew was stronger, and to his great surprise, Matthew found himself laughing as they wrestled together on the forest floor. It had been a long time since he'd been able to snatch a carefree moment for himself, and he was going to _revel_ in it. Yes, he still wanted to branch out and challenge himself to form new connections, but that was far from his top priority. Matthew wanted to be _happy_ , and right now he was.

Kumajirou pushed his cold wet nose into Matthew's neck, and Matthew flinched away, squirming and laughing. That gave Kumajiro the opening he needed to break away, and dash off deeper into the forest. Still, laughing, Matthew rolled onto his feet and gave chase.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Matthew sat irritably at his computer, checking his e-mails, then his electronic calendar, then back again. He'd never received a second reply from Ivan, nor had he received the promised meeting agenda. While Matthew was grateful for the latter, the former was increasingly irksome. If Ivan didn't want to talk, _why_ hadn't he just said so? Then again, Ivan hadn't said he _wouldn't_ meet Matthew...

The end result left an agitated and tense Matthew sitting in front of his computer at 7:58pm, on Friday July 14th, waiting to see what Ivan would do. Part of Matthew wanted Ivan to show up so he could snap at him for being so uncommunicative, and part of him wanted Ivan to ignore him so that he could put this whole exercise to rest.

The call came promptly at 8:00pm. Matthew jumped at the sound, then cursed himself as he scrambled to accept the call. As soon as he clicked the button, Ivan's somber face filled the screen. Ivan was dressed in the formal gray coat that Matthew often saw him wear at meetings.

Ivan gave the slightest of nods. "Greetings, Matvey."

Matthew let out the breath he had been holding and made an effort to put a smile on his face. "Hello, Ivan. Thank you for coming."

The silence between them stretched on into awkwardness..

At length Matthew shifted in his seat and ventured, "So, how was your day?"

Ivan's reply was clipped and cold. "I would like to know why you have called this meeting."

Matthew let out a groan of frustration and gestured vehemently in the air between himself and the screen. "Oh, for the love of- Ivan, I wasn't calling a meeting! I just wanted to talk to you! Is that _so_ strange?!"

Ivan said nothing, he only stared impassively at the screen, his eyes locked with Matthew's. As they stared at each other, Matthew felt the irritation bleed out of him. Ivan had been a solitary nation for many years now, and he didn't exactly have the friendliest reputation. Maybe it _was_ strange for someone to contact him just to talk...

Matthew lowered his hands to his lap and continued to look at the stoic man on the screen. He looked strong and self-assured, but Matthew could see the traces of the pain he had glimpsed on Ivan's face that day in the hotel gardens. That loneliness evoked Matthew's sympathy both then and now. Matthew licked his lips and decided to set a good example. "Today was a quiet day, but that's not so unusual these days. I fed Kuma, then went on a hike with him." Matthew shook his head. "I have no idea how he has so much energy, especially in the summer. You'd think with his fur he'd be roasting. Although there is a nice lake about a mile from here that we usually stop to swim in, so maybe that cools him down." Matthew paused and waited for a reaction.

Ivan's brow furrowed. "You are talking about your little polar bear?"

Matthew nodded. "Yes. He's been with me forever, but he's more than a little obsessed with food, which makes bringing him to the world conferences a bit of a problem. He's threatened to terrorize more than one hotel buffet. It's a good thing he can shrink down to the size of a medium dog if he needs to; I usually put him in a harness and that makes him easier to control. I mean, he could grow and break the harness, but he never has. Even he knows that would cause a panic. For the last ten years I've been having the wives of one of my former prime ministers look after him for me when I go on long trips. She's a nice enough woman, and she loves Kuma."

Matthew paused again and looked at Ivan. Ivan's face was still mostly impassive, but there was a slight furrow to his eyebrows, betraying his confusion. "I'm telling you about my day," Matthew prompted. "How was _your_ day?"

Ivan blinked at him. "You _want_ to know how my day was?"

Matthew nodded. "Yes."

Ivan squinted skeptically at the screen. "Why?"

"Because I want to get to know you," Matthew replied. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." A pressing silence threatened and Matthew added. "We could play a game if that makes you more comfortable."

"A game?" Ivan asked, hesitating over the words.

"Yes," Matthew agreed, glancing around his room as thought searching for ideas. "Um...you like chess, don't you? We could play chess."

"Chess?" Ivan asked again, drawing out the word in his confusion.

"Yes, chess," Matthew confirmed. "Would you like to play?" He wasn't really very good at chess, but he'd learned enough that Ivan probably couldn't beat him instantly... Probably.

They stared at each other for a long, tense moment before Ivan nodded again. "Da, we can play."

Matthew immediately brightened. "Great! We just have to find a good program. It should only take me a minute to Google it."

"Nyet," Ivan retorted, waving his hand dismissively in the air.

"Nyet?" Matthew asked. "I thought you just said-"

"I will not play online," Ivan clarified. "It is disgrace to the game."

Matthew let out an agitated sigh. "Okay..." He glanced around again. "I have a set here somewhere... It might be a little hard for you to see through the camera..." Matthew looked back at his computer screen. "Do you have a set of your own?"

Ivan glowered silently at the screen until Matthew sighed and rolled his eyes, realizing the obvious. "Of course you do. Right. I'll just go get mine then. We can call out the specific moves so we can both keep track. Be right back." Matthew rose from the chair and moved to the stairs. His chess set was neatly stored in the hall closet; it would only take a moment to cart the set into his study.

While Matthew was gone Ivan peered around at what he could see of the other nation's home. It appeared to be in a log cabin-no surprise there-and was neatly but sparsely furnished. There was a tall, broad bookshelf filled to the brim along the opposite wall, a tastefully hung painting of the forest, and what Ivan presumed was the edge of a sofa or a plush chair. It was a sharp contrast to his own, polished residence filled with delicate and immaculate antiques.

Matthew's image returned to the screen and Ivan watched as he placed a slim box down on his desk, then move to another section of the room to retrieve a small table, just wide and tall enough for their purposes. That done, Matthew saw down and began to set up his board and pieces while Ivan watched.

Everything was glass. The board was glass with alternating clear and etched squares, mirroring the clear and etched glass pieces that made up the opposing sides of the chess set. It was markedly different from the rest of Matthew's house and decorations, at least the one's Ivan could see.

"You said you have a set of your own?" Matthew asked, still lining up his pieces.

Ivan nodded. "Da, is right here." He shifted himself and the camera so that his own chess set came into view. It an antique, like much of the rest of his home. The delicately carved wooden pieces gleamed in the light of the room, well preserved despite their many years of use.

Matthew peered at the set through the screen and smiled. "It suits you."

"Spasibo," Ivan replied with a nod. "Yours is...different from what I expected."

Matthew's smile widened. "Thank you; it's good to know I'm not completely predictable." Matthew's hand hesitated over the pieces, and his face took a more serious mien. He'd suggested playing a game out of frustration, and chess was the first thing that came to mind because of Alfred's famous chess rivalry with Ivan, not just personally, but politically. Alfred had even claimed to have built a computer that could beat Ivan's best players. The competition was long done and over with, and people were still dubious as to what _really_ happened.

Matthew licked his lips and let his fingers trail slowly over the last piece. "Did you know that Alfred has an elaborate set with pieces that look like dragons and wolves?"

Ivan's sudden laughter drew Matthew's attention back to the screen. It wasn't the cold calculating laugh Matthew had heard before in meetings, but a warm one of genuine amusement. "That does sound like Alfred."

Matthew's smile returned, at least in part. "You have a nice laugh."

Ivan paused and looked quizzically at the screen for a few moments before he replied. " Spasibo. Shall we begin?"

 

~*~*~*~

 

"My knight from qk8 to qb6," Ivan stated calmly. Matthew sighed and dutifully moved the corresponding piece on his chess board.

It had been a few months since the summer conference. Fall was fast approaching, and Matthew had made a point to keep his acquaintance with Ivan going. At first Ivan had been confused and somewhat hesitant, but Matthew had been persistent. He hadn't planned on beginning his new, more social life, by befriending Ivan, but once they had made a beginning, Matthew was determined to see it through. Matthew knew this was probably some misguided attempt to prove something to himself, but he honestly couldn't see a downside. He was talking more with Gilbert, Feliciano, Ludwig, Arthur, and Francis too. In many ways his life was more active and fulfilling that it had been in _years._ It was stupid to still feel so empty, but he did. That was the other reason he'd started playing chess with Ivan late into the night every other Friday.

"You're after my Queen again," Matthew observed, trying to plan his defense as well as his offense.

A sly smile spread itself over Ivan's features. "Da. Is the easiest way to unnerve you."

Matthew grumbled softly, but he couldn't deny that Ivan was right. He'd known the rules of chess for decades, but he'd never been very good at it. Even now he wasn't sure he was improving. Ivan on the other hand, was very skilled, and always seemed to enjoy wining.

"How's your day going?" Matthew asked, his fingers idly tracing the pieces as he considered his next move.

"Stalling will not protect you," Ivan replied, his voice irritatingly chipper.

"My left bishop to your left rook," Matthew replied, sweeping Ivan's piece off the board with a flourish.

Ivan shook his head quietly to himself as he adjusted the pieces. "Matvey, what will it take for you to recite your moves properly?"

"You target my Queen to get under my skin, I refuse to name the squares of movement to get under yours," Matthew replied, his smile belying the harsh tone if his words.

Ivan chuckled softly, folding his hands under his chin as he looked at Matthew. "I knew you had backbone when you stood up in the middle of that crowded meeting and defended the independence of my Baltic States."

"They deserved their freedom." Matthew's reply was soft but resolute. His opinion on the matter hadn't changed, but his opinion on Ivan _had_. Looking at him now it was hard to imagine how he'd missed the loneliness that must have driven Ivan on, trying to keep together what he saw as his 'family.' If the other nations had been willing to remain joined with Russia, Matthew never would have protested, but he had seen the truth, and he still stood by his actions.

Ivan's eyes softened and drifted down toward his keyboard. "Yes, they do."

Matthew's fingers twitched with the repressed urge to reach out and touch the computer screen. But Ivan wasn't really here, he wouldn't feel it.  It could be _very_ lonely and isolating being a personified nation sometimes. Matthew wondered if that was one of his underlying reasons for remaining part of the commonwealth... He bit back a sigh. That was _another_ thing he would need to take a long hard look at in the near future.

"I'm sorry," Matthew murmured, drawing Ivan's attention back to him. "I didn't mean to bring up painful memories."

Ivan's expression softened with the ghost of a sad smile. "We all have painful memories. If we are foolish enough to ignore them, we are likely to repeat them."

Matthew nodded somberly, his eyes darting to the closet where he'd shoved the wedding dress Francis had sent him. It was the same one he'd 'picked out' this summer. Matthew couldn't believe that Francis had actually purchased it and sent it to him. He knew Francis wanted him to have faith that he could find love again, but honestly, love was the last thing he wanted to think about right now.

"Matvey?"

Matthew turned his gaze back to the screen. "Huh?"

"My move, did you hear me?" Ivan asked, gesturing with a pawn.

Matthew flushed with embarrassment. "No, sorry. What was it again?"

Ivan hesitated, and then set his piece down. "You do not have to play chess with me, just because your nights are lonely."

Matthew's mouth fell open and anger bloomed hot in his chest. "That's not why!" He protested vehemently. It wasn't. â€¦Well, it wasn't the _only_ reason, or even a big one. Matthew sighed and ran a hand through his lightly curling hair. "It's not. I've been trying to open up more, put myself out there. In case you haven't noticed I've been trying to get to know you a little better."

Ivan lifted his eyebrows curiously. "Oh? And what have you learned?"

"That I'm not the only one with lonely nights," Matthew retorted. A slight smile edged onto his lips as he added, "And I think you're a bigger softie than you like to let on."

Ivan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What makes you say this?"

"I remember you referring to all the members of the Soviet Union as your family. You wanted everyone to stay together, but they left anyway." Matthew's voice was softer now, more tentative. "That's enough to make anyone question their worth."

Ivan looked at him stoically for a long moment. "Not many people would speak to me so plainly, Matvey." A reluctant smile made itself known in Ivan's features. "I told you, you are brave."

Matthew smiled and glanced thoughtfully at the chess set in front of him. "Flattery will not save you, Ivan. Your queen _and_ your king will be mine."

Ivan laughed softly and Matthew beamed. It was a lovely sound, full of joy and not a veiled threat as he'd heard before during world meetings.

"We shall see, Matvey," Ivan replied, a broad smile still on his face. "We shall see."

Matthew bent to his task with new vigor. He thought he was holding his own, but he couldn't deny that Ivan's knowledge and skill far exceeded his. Even so, he intended to put forth his best effort. He was so focused on the game that he didn't realize when Kumajiro nestled beside him, and leaned into him, until the polar bear actually spoke.

"Food."

"Hm?" Matthew asked, finally looking up and over into familiar brown eyes.

"Food," Kumajiro repeated. "Now."

Matthew smiled and kissed Kumajiro's forehead. "Okay, just give me a minute." Matthew turned back to the screen and addressed Ivan. "Sorry to interrupt the game, but Kuma needs his dinner. I'll be right back."

Ivan nodded and watched Matthew stand and leave the room. Instead of following Matthew, the bear stayed, actually jumping into Matthew's recently vacated seat and staring fixedly at Ivan through the screen.

"Food."

Ivan quirked an eyebrow at the polar bear. "I do not have food for you. Go see Matvey." Ivan made a shooing gesture at the camera, but the polar bear was unmoved.

"Give me food."

Ivan frowned. "I do not have foo-" he began, but was interrupted by Matthew's distant cry.

"Kuma! Food's ready!"

"Fooood!" Kumajiro cheered, leaping off of Matthew's desk chair and trotting down the hall, into the kitchen.

Moments later Matthew returned, glancing over his shoulder, out the door and down the hall with a fond smile.

"Your polar bear is not very bright," Ivan observed.

Matthew glanced back at the screen as he took his seat. "His name is Kumajiro, and he's very smart when he wants to be. He just has simple desires. I'm surprised he stayed here actually. He's normally glued to my side when I'm getting his food ready. He must like you. It's a pity I don't bring him to world conferences anymore, or I'd introduce you in person."

"You have a human woman watch him when you are away, Da?"

Matthew nodded. "It's much better than worrying what kind of terror he's going to unleash on a hotel room when he gets bored."

"It seems like a lot of trouble for a pet," Ivan mused. "When I need to leave I just make sure my cat is outside."

"You have a cat?" Matthew asked suddenly interested. "Where is he? What's his name?"

Ivan shrugged. "Around. He is an independent creature, and his name is Blue."

Matthew nodded. That seemed fitting. "As long as he's safe when you get home. That's all that matters."

Ivan wasn't quite sure how to respond to this. He hadn't put a lot of thought into his cat's safety. He'd lived through so many vicious winters and wars that loss had become the expectation, not the exception. If his cat lived, then it lived, and if it didn't, then it didn't. Everyone and everything would leave you, in the end.

"Shall we get back to the game?" Matthew asked, sensing some unease from his chess partner.

Ivan nodded, and play resumed once more.

Several hours later, Matthew knew he was playing a losing game, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The game had stretched on longer than usual because Ivan was actually _talking_ to him, not formulating polite, careful responses. Not that they were wading into any deep or emotionally laden territory, but still Matthew felt they'd taken a step forward.

Matthew stretched and hid a long, loud yawn behind his hand.

"You do not need to stay up on my account," Ivan said, once Matthew was looking at the screen again.

"No, no," Matthew protested, straightening in his seat and trying to look more alert. "I'm good."

Ivan eyed him thoughtfully for a moment before replying. "Is hard to sleep in an empty house sometimes, yes?"

Matthew hesitated, glancing around and spying Kumajiro already curled up on the bed and fast asleep. "Well, I have Kuma," he started, turning back towards the webcam.

Ivan shot him an unimpressed, disbelieving look until Matthew's shoulder's fell and he nodded. "Yeah," Matthew admitted. "Yeah it is, and it sucks." Matthew lifted his eyes to Ivan's and added with a small smile. "Thank you for keeping me company."

Ivan's eyes held his through the screen, and Ivan nodded slowly. "Pozhaluysta." They shared a small, meaningful smile before Matthew felt the pull of another yawn tugging at him.

"I probably should turn in for the night," Matthew murmured, a touch of resignation in his voice.

"We can finished another time," Ivan agreed.

"You wouldn't mind?" Matthew asked, his eyes darting to the chess board at his elbow.

"Nyet," Ivan replied. "You promised to take my queen and king captive. I am curious to see how you plan to accomplish such a feat at this point."

Matthew glanced up at Ivan, a grin washing over his features. "I'll do my best," he promised.

"Sleep well, Matvey," Ivan murmured, waving through the webcam.

"You too, Ivan," Matthew replied, waving back. He saw Ivan's arm flex and figured he must be moving to sever their connection. "Hey, Ivan?"

Ivan stilled, his gaze refocusing on Matthew. "Da?"

"The autumn world conference is coming up soon.  Do you want to hang out together while we're there?"

The pause that followed was just long enough to make Matthew regret asking, before Ivan said, "Da, that would be nice. What would you like to do?"

Matthew blinked. He had already resigned himself to a refusal, and it took a few moments for his thoughts to catch up to Ivan's words. "Oh, well, Ludwig is hosting the autumn conference. He mentioned there are some beautiful hiking trails within easy distance of the hotel where the conference is being held. What do you think?"

Ivan nodded. "Let's meet early, the day before the conference starts," he suggested.

"That sounds like a good plan," Matthew agreed, smiling back at Ivan. "I'll message you about finishing this game after I've had some sleep. Goodnight, Ivan."

"Goodnight Matvey," Ivan replied, "Sleep well."

"Sleep well," Matthew echoed, giving Ivan a little wave as he severed their connection. He blinked at his computer screen tiredly for a few moments before shutting it down. Matthew stood, stretched, and leaned on his desk for support when his head swam because of the sudden movement. Then he finally made his way to bed.

Kumajiro grumbled in his sleep as Matthew pulled back the covers and climbed in, but otherwise was silent. Matthew carefully put his glasses in their protective case on his low beside cabinet, and turned out the lights. Fatigue made his limbs heavy, but Matthew still made a point of shifting over in the bed until Kumajiro was pressed up against his side.

_Is hard to sleep in an empty house sometimes, yes?_

Kumajiro sighed in his sleep and snuggled closer to Matthew. The pressure of another being in the bed with him helped. Matthew smiled, closed his eyes, and slept.


	11. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew and Ivan deepen their bond, and Alfred sinks further and further into his own self-destruction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kundos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to this story! I'm so thankful for the support and appreciation! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 11: Unexpected

 

Ivan was dressed casually in tan shorts, hiking boots, and a dark grey t-shirt, but he still cut an impressive figure as he crossed his arms and frowned at the unexpected crowd trailing after Matthew. "You are not alone."

Matthew smiled sheepishly and glanced behind him at Arthur, Francis, Gilbert, Ludwig, and Feliciano. "Yeah, sorry. They all heard about our plans and wanted to come along. Is that okay?" Matthew was hardly going to deny his friends the chance to have some fun, but if Ivan preferred to be in less of a crowd, they could always take a different path from the rest of the group.

Ivan's face was hard and cold as he replied, "You either wanted them with you, or you lacked the courage to send them away."

Matthew straightened and looked back at Ivan, offended by his harsh tone. "I like hanging out with them, yes. I didn't see any reason to deny them a little fun. If you're that bent out of shape about it we can go on a different trail… Or you can stay here."

Francis, apparently oblivious to the tension in the air draped himself over Matthew's shoulders and smiled welcomingly at Ivan. "So glad to have you with us today, Ivan," he cooed, overly affectionate as he always was when he was relaxed and happy. "Ludwig tells us that we'll be passing by several vineyards." Francis winked. "He says he's made arrangements for us to enjoy a few wine tastings!"

Ivan's expression hardened further.

"Alright, everyone, let's go," Ludwig broke in, his booming voice addressing the group as a whole, which was lightly scattered just outside the hotel lobby. "If we aren't on the road in five minutes, we'll be late. Francis and Arthur will be following my car and Matthew and Ivan will be following them. Remember we're a unit, so try not to lose anyone."

There was some good natured grumbling as they formed up into groups. Matthew glanced nervously at Ivan. "Would you still like to go hiking?" He was torn between equal parts embarrassment and irritation, but he tried to keep his voice level.

"I always keep my word," Ivan replied flatly.

Matthew rolled his eyes and turned around, heading for his car. He'd really been looking forward to hiking with Ivan, but now he was battling a growing sense of disappointment, and he _really_ didn't appreciate Ivan's attitude. If Ivan didn't want to hang out with the others then so be it, but that was no excuse to be unpleasant. Matthew had already spent far too many years catering to Alfred's whims and temper, he wasn't about to do it again, not for anyone.

Ivan slid into the passenger's side of the care beside Matthew, and Matthew shot him a baleful glance. He wasn't going to let this be a pall hanging over them the rest of the day. Once they were properly on the road, they'd have to talk it out. If they couldn't... well they had a large group of people with them now, and it would be easy to lose Ivan in the crowd.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Alfred could see Matthew and the others make their way to their rental cars and pull out onto the road from the balcony of his room. He watched them go impassively. They looked so fucking happy it made his teeth hurt. As their cars sped out of sight, Alfred lifted his beer to his lips and drank deeply.

Fuck them, and fuck Matthew too. Arthur had spent so much time trying to make Alfred feel like crap, when Matthew wasn't hurting _at all_. He sure as hell felt well enough to parade around with his little _fucking_ entourage like he didn't have a care in the world.

The last contents of the bottle emptied into his mouth. Alfred tossed it roughly down onto the concrete floor of his balcony, where it shattered, spreading little glass pieces at his feet.

"Fuck!" Alfred stumbled through the glass shards, cursing forcefully as he went. He _wasn't_ the bad guy here, despite what they said. He was doing just _fine_ on his own!

 

~*~*~*~

 

Matthew took a few measured breaths as he followed Francis and Arthur's car out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Once they were in the stream of traffic, Matthew glanced over at Ivan. He was sitting rigidly in his seat, all but glowering at the windshield. Matthew rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry this turned into a bigger thing than we had planned," Matthew began, trying to keep his tone mild and even. "But I haven't disregarded your feelings."

Ivan huffed slightly and shifted in his seat. Matthew resisted the urge to elbow him in the shoulder for being difficult, and pressed on. "I didn't think it would be fair to say they couldn't go, since they deserve some relaxation time as well. I was hoping to speak to you before everyone arrived to see how you felt, but you know how strict Ludwig is about time. Hell, even Feliciano was there slightly early."

Ivan offered no response or commentary so, frowning, Matthew continued. "I was going to ask you what you thought and if you didn't want a large crowd I was going to suggest we split off from the larger group and hike different trails." Matthew frowned to himself.

Ivan's gaze shifted away from the windshield at last, and drifted over to Matthew's tight, pinched expression. He was frowning at the road ahead of him as they kept pace with their unexpected entourage. It wasn't a flattering look for Matthew, and Ivan felt just the slightest bit responsible for putting it there.

"I would not mind seeing the wineries, but I will _not_ drink." Ivan admitted begrudgingly. "It is not safe for me...or anyone else if I do.

Matthew glanced at him for a moment, his expression softening, before quickly returning his eyes to the road. He remembered very clearly, how could he forget, the words Toris had all but shouted at Ivan in the garden of the hotel that hosted the summer world conference. He hadn't asked Ivan any more details about that part of his past, he didn't feel he had the right to. It was pretty clear that Ivan had abused Toris, physically as well as verbally. Now, as he recollected Ivan's reputation for overindulging, Ivan's reluctance and stiff demeanor made much more sense. "Are you sure? About the wineries? I wouldn't want you be uncomfortable."

Ivan nodded, his features relaxing just the slightest bit. "Da, I do not mind. I took control of my drinking, and my actions are my responsibility. Now if they suggested going to a vodka distillery… then we would need to take a different path."

The hint of a smile settled on Matthew's features. "I'll keep that in mind."

A beat of silence passed before Ivan spoke again. "I…I am sorry, Matvey. My temper got away from me."

Matthew raised his eyebrows and glanced sidelong at Ivan. "You don't say?" They both chuckled softly before Matthew added, "I wouldn't worry too much; it happens to the best of us."

Ivan turned in his seat to look at Matthew more directly. "Are you saying that _you_ have lost your temper, Matvey?" Matthew was easily one of mildest mannered personified nations, but Ivan knew better than most that a smile could portray joy or hide pain, depending on the occasion. "What did you do?"

Matthew flushed slightly and his focus remained pointedly fixed on the road. "Last year Alfred was having some work done on one of his houses. I warned Alfred and the workers he hired to be careful and make sure that all the doors were closed…but someone got lazy or forgot because Kumajiro got out anyway. He was still in the front yard, thank goodness, but for a few seconds all I could think about was him getting hit by a stray car. He minds me well enough in the woods, but in suburbia... I don't quite trust his instincts. Thankfully he came when I called him. I scooped him up and, without saying a word to any of the workers that had rushed out when they heard me yelling, I carried Kumajiro inside and slammed the door so loudly the walls shook. It wasn't anything super dramatic, but apparently the supervisor refused to go back inside after that. Alfred wasn't pleased because the project was only half finished."

Ivan laughed quietly and Matthew would have been more embarrassed if Ivan's smile hadn't been so infectious. "Yes, you sound like quite the terror."

Matthew rolled his eyes then made the very mature choice to stick his tongue out at Ivan, which had them both laughing.

"Are you sure you don't mind walking with the others?" Matthew asked again, wanting to be sure.

"Is fine," Ivan assured him. "This way I can see what they are all like when they are drunk."

Matthew sputtered with laughter once more. "You're impossible!"

Ivan grinned unrepentantly as they pulled off the main road towards a small, gravel parking lot.

Matthew carefully brought his rental car to a stop, then opened his door and stepped out to join the others. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits.

"Alright, everyone come here," Ludwig announced loudly, unfolding a large map over the hood of his rental car. There was some murmuring and knowing smiles, but everyone gathered close and gave Ludwig their full attention. Anything else would result in a lecture. And it was better to be prepared anyway.

"Right, this trail is clearly marked with green reflectors every 300 meters," Ludwig announced, gesturing to the sign at the start of the trail. "We will intersect other trails as we go, but it is important that we all stay on the green trail and keep together. We will be visiting a grand total of four wineries today. This is my country, and I know each of these owners personally, but they only know me as Ludwig." Ludwig lifted his gaze from the map and made a point of meeting each of their gazes individually as he added, "I expect you all to be on your best behavior. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Ludwig," they chorused, and Ludwig nodded in satisfaction.

"I trust each of you have brought water. Please be advised that I have packed additional water and first aid supplies in case they are needed. Don't hesitate to ask, especially for the water. We'll be getting a lot of exercise, and I don't want any of us combating intoxication or dehydration." Ludwig glanced up and surveyed the group once more. "Are we all agreed on the plan?"

There was a murmur of agreement and nodding heads. This seemed to satisfy Ludwig because he folded up the map and tucked it neatly in his knapsack before tugging the knapsack on his shoulders and forging ahead onto the trail. Feliciano and Gilbert walked close behind Ludwig, Arthur and Francis followed after, and Ivan and Matthew brought up the rear.

Ludwig was already speaking about the history of the area and gesturing to points of interest along the trail. Everyone was generally following along, but they were also engaged in their own quiet conversations.

Matthew glanced over at Ivan and smiled. He was grateful to have some company of his own on this little excursion. Matthew really enjoyed spending some time with his friends, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't sometimes feel like a third wheel. It was nothing any of them did, they were all very welcoming. Still, the knowledge that he was the only single person among them… As much as he tried not to fixate on it, Matthew couldn't seem to escape the constant reminders. He knew it was stupid to feel bitter, but that didn't change his feelings.

It was still hard to think how much of his life had revolved around Alfred, and how much he'd let slip by. Matthew had been friends with Gilbert for _centuries_ , and he couldn't even say when his relationship with Ludwig and Feliciano had begun. Granted, Gilbert might not have let him in on that little secret anyway, because he seemed to want to respect Ludwig's desire for discretion, but still. Matthew should have spent more time with his friends over the years, there was no reason not to. He'd been so foolish…

"Is Ludwig's walking stick organized?" Ivan asked softly, squinting and craning his head to try to get a better look.

Matthew blinked, his melancholy reverie broken, and redirected his gaze further up the trail. Ludwig's walking stick was decorated with little metal placards that made long neat lines down the length of the wood. Matthew had seen sticks with markers like that. They were often sold along hiking trails or other touristy places to act as a souvenir of being there. A reluctant smile appeared on Matthew's features. "Yeah, it looks like it. Knowing Ludwig they're probably also organized by geography." Matthew glanced over at Ivan and they shared a knowing smile.

"Are you sure he did not organize them by historical significance?" Ivan asked, his smile growing. "Or the order in which he obtained them so that he could document his travels?"

"How could he choose?" Matthew replied dryly and they both chuckled. Ludwig's organization was one of his greatest strengths, but it could also be a consuming trait. Even now, Ludwig had pulled the map out and unfolded it over his arms to serve as a visual aid in his lecture about the surrounding territory. It was interesting, but also a bit intense.

"Do you think he's going to quiz us when he's done?" Matthew asked, speaking low and leaning close to Ivan so that he could be heard.

"Not if he drinks enough," Ivan quipped, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

Matthew chuckled again, despite his attempts to stifle it, and he nudged Ivan's shoulder in retaliation. Ivan laughed softly, but unrepentantly. As their laughter died away Matthew asked, "Have you ever been to these trails before, Ivan?"

Ivan shook his head. "Nyet, but they are pretty." His head turned as he took in the terrain. They'd hiked up a large hill and the trail curved along the top, giving them their current view of the surrounding hills. "Is much easier than hiking in winter."

Matthew nodded enthusiastically. "Seriously, I would need at least double the supplies to protect against exposure, and for survival in case of emergencies." Matthew paused and looked up into the bright blue sky of early autumn. "It's worth it though, especially at night."

Ivan hummed softly in agreement, turning to look back at Matthew. "The aurora borealis."

"Yeah," Matthew agreed, and they shared a small smile. Anyone could see the aurora borealis, but very few countries could boast of being able to offer the view. The wonder of the experience brought many tourists abroad, and while Matthew always felt that wonder, the sight of the northern lights also reminded him of home, even when he was far from it. "I went out one night over a frozen lake and the lights were so bright they reflected in the snow; it was stunning. Stargazing is better in the winter too, I think."

"It can be," Ivan conceded, "but you are right about having the right supplies. Without that it would be a disaster."

"Tell me about it," Matthew replied rolling his eyes. "You know one summer Alfred disappeared into the woods around one of my homes to go hiking on a whim. He just wandered out the back door in _sandals_!"

Ivan started snickering and Matthew couldn't blame him.

"He came back sun burnt and covered in mosquito bites! I'm shocked he didn't get poison ivy to boot!" Matthew shook his head. "I swear, he runs on pure determination. Once he's made up his mind to do something, you can't tell him anything else."

Ivan studied Matthew for a moment, considering his words carefully. It had not escaped his notice that Alfred and Matthew no longer sat together at world conferences. They had been married sometime last year and while he'd almost never seen the brash and careless Alfred wear his wedding ring, he had never seen Matthew without his, until recently. Ivan did not want to aggravate any fresh wounds so he merely said, "Alfred has been very lucky."

Matthew wasn't so sure if that still applied. Lately Alfred seemed bound and determine to isolate anyone who had ever allied with him in the past. Matthew tried not to think about it, considering everything that had happened between them, but it was hard to deny the destructive path that Alfred was on…

"Oh, a kitty!"

Everyone looked up the trail toward Feliciano who was crouched low on the side of the trail, cooing at and petting a small tortoiseshell cat, who butted up against his hand and purred loudly.

"Feliciano, you shouldn't bother her too much," Ludwig warned. "I'm sure that cat has places to be."

"But she's out here in the wild all alone!" Feliciano protested, glancing over his shoulder.

"I wouldn't say that," Gilbert replied, smiling as the grass beside the trail rustled and five tiny kittens burst out at their feet.

Francis, Arthur, and Matthew joined Feliciano and Gilbert, smiling and cooing at the cats, leaning down to try to coax them closer for pets. Ivan watched bemused and Ludwig looked on, flustered.

"We don't really have time for this…" Ludwig started, and Feliciano rounded on him.

"Ludwig! These poor kitties are out here all alone and defenseless! We can't just leave them here!" Feliciano was generally friendly, welcoming, and accommodating; while he wasn't at all quiet or shy like Matthew, he was generally the last person one would consider fearsome. He looked fearsome now, however. His posture was rigid, his eyes were narrowed, and his face was flushed with agitation.

Ludwig raised his hands in surrender as he spoke again, "Feli, I'm not saying that we should abandon them. But we aren't far from the winery. They probably belong to the owner."

Feliciano eased back a step, his shoulders softening, and his face relaxing to his usual easy expression. "Then we should take them back home," Feliciano declared, nodding to himself and leaning down to scoop the kitten at his feet into his arms.

Ludwig glanced helplessly to Gilbert, who only smiled and shook his head. Feliciano was very sweet and generally got along with everyone, but he was fiercely defensive of anyone he considered to be under his protection.

Ludwig, Arthur, Francis, and Matthew scooped up their respective kittens as well, holding them close to their chests. Gilbert knelt down to scoop up the mother cat, but she meowed loudly and skittered away from him, back towards the brush. Gilbert frowned and stepped after the cat, still crouched low and reaching for her. She led him a little way off the trail then stopped. Gilbert followed her gaze and stilled. "Oh…"

There, trudging along in the grass was a three legged kitten. He looked healthy and clean enough, for an outdoor cat, but he was obviously tired.

The others moved to join Gilbert after a few moments, each of them frowning at the struggling kitten, or each other in turn. All except Ivan, that is. He stopped and just observed the three legged kitten for a long moment. As if sensing his gaze, the kitten stopped his struggles for forward momentum, stared at Ivan, then pulled back its lips and hissed sharply. The others jumped, but Ivan only smiled and knelt down, holding out one hand, palm up on the ground.

The three legged kitten eyed Ivan's hand suspiciously, stalking slowly forward in its laborious, clumsy gait. When it finally reached him it sniffed his hand, swiped at him with a paw, lost its balance, and tumbled backwards in a heap. Matthew stepped forward to assist the kitten, but halted when Ivan stretched his free arm over Matthew's knees, holding him back.

The kitten squirmed and struggled for a long moment before it finally righted itself. It shook itself, then resolutely plodded through the dirt and grass until it was resting in Ivan's large hand. Only then did Ivan lift the tiny bundle to his chest and stand.

Matthew stared at the kitten in Ivan's hands. It was easily the smallest one of the litter, but it was also currently trying valiantly to bite Ivan's thumb, so it might be the bravest of the litter as well. The bite looked heartfelt but Ivan allowed it without protest, only smiling and gently stroking the kittens head with his free hand. After a moment he looked up and met the varied gazes of his companions. "Are we ready to go?"

Gilbert bent down and scooped up the now pliant mother cat and nodded, an unreadable expression on his face. "Yes, I think we can go now."

Ivan nodded and without any further prompting, he turned and started walking back to the trail they had been hiking. Ludwig quickly followed, anxious to lead the way to the winery. They resumed their earlier formation with Ludwig at the lead, Feliciano and Gilbert to either side, Francis and Arthur following close behind, and Ivan and Matthew at the back.

Matthew glanced at Ivan as they walked, holding his own softly purring kitten while Ivan's continued its assault on his fingers. "Why did you approach the kitten that way?"

Ivan looked over to Matthew with a serious expression. "This little one isn't doing well. I knew Feliciano would demand that Ludwig or I carry him to the winery regardless, but I wanted to know if he had a chance to survive." Ivan's gaze fell back to the kitten in his hands. "I didn't see any sign of rabies, and he was very determined. He has spirit, he will be fine."

Matthew smiled softly, watching the kitten in question continue to chew at Ivan's knuckles. "He's certainly energetic."

"Da," Ivan agreed smiling down at the kitten in his hands. Matthew watched Ivan hold and play with his kitten all the way down the trail. He didn't look anything like a man with an intimidating reputation. He still cut an impressive figure-that was hard to avoid with his height, broad shoulders, and strong features- but there was an easy gentleness in his movements and obvious caring in his eyes.

Just as their group was approaching the first buildings of the winery Ivan glanced up and caught Matthew staring. Ivan tilted his head to one side and frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," Matthew assured him, turning away with a soft smile, and pressing a gentle kiss to the head of the kitten nestled in his own arms. It let out a small squeak of protest, before snuggling further into his embrace.

Feliciano was growing obviously more excited or agitated, somehow managing to fidget and walk at the same time. At last, despite Ludwig's watchful gaze, Feliciano darted free from their group, running the remaining distance to the small house that was closest to them. Ludwig called out in protest, but Feliciano didn't stop until he leapt up the front steps and started knocking loudly on the front door.

Ludwig let out a growl of frustration and kicked up into a run to catch up to Feliciano. The others, while certainly not running, moved quickly to follow him.

The door opened just at Ludwig skidded to a stop at the bottom of the steps. A strong, tall, middle aged woman with long brown hair tied back in a neat bun peered outside. She looked questioningly at Ludwig for a moment before a sharp meow drew her attention to the bundle in Feliciano's arms. The woman let out a cry of delight and pulled the small orange tabby kitten from Feliciano's arms into her own, hugging her fiercely. "Mien Gott, Sophie! _Where_ have you been?!"

"We were hiking back on the trail when her mama found us," Feliciano explained, gesturing excitedly back to the trail. "She had her siblings with her too," Feliciano added, gesturing to his friends, who had finally caught up with them.

The cat meowed slightly in protest as the woman squeezed her tightly to her chest. The woman, however, seemed unconcerned, and turned her attention to Feliciano. "Vielen Dank," she murmured, reaching out and shaking Feliciano's hand with a firm grip. "Her mother's been a wanderer all her life, but she's never missed a meal before. I was particularly worried because one of her kittens needs regular medicine, but I can see you found them all." As she spoke the woman's eyes roamed over the rest of the group, who was just now arriving at her door. Her gaze lingered particularly on Ivan's black kitten for a moment, before she pulled them back towards Ludwig.

"Guten tag, Ludwig. I apologize for not greeting you properly."

Ludwig climbed the steps to stand beside Feliciano, and shook the woman's hand gently. "Frau Bruckner, it is good to see you again. I can tell you've been worried about your animals. We should get them inside and settled with their mother."

Frau Bruckner smiled and nodded. "Yes, please come inside everyone." She turned and waved everyone after her as she entered her house."

Everyone filed inside and Matthew, who was last in line, made sure the door was securely locked behind him. They were in what appeared to be a kitchen lined with cabinets and shelves, with a large wooden table at its center and an antique oven tucked into one corner beside a fireplace.

Frau Bruckner placed Sophie in a small blanket lined box by her fireplace. Then Gilbert stepped forward and handed over the mother cat.

"Clara, you are going to give me a heart attack one of these days," Frau Bruckner chastised as she settled the cat alongside her daughter. One by one each person stepped forward and handed her their kitten. She smiled as she took them, thanking each person, and sounding off the name of each kitten as she went.

"Ah there is Stephan, stoic as always. Thank you, sir. Now here is Marie Ann, dainty just like her mother. Thank you. Ah, Eva, I know you'll have better sense than to run off when you're old enough to be away from your mother."

Ivan nudged Matthew in front of him and Matthew went with one questioning backwards glance. He held out his kitten to Frau Bruckner who accepted him into her arms with a warm smile and a gentle, "Thank you." She set the cat down beside his mother and his siblings, stroking his back for a moment. "Good to see you again, Christopher."

As Matthew stepped back to allow Ivan forward, Frau Bruckner turned and smiled knowingly at the bundle in Ivan's arms. "Ah, Andreas. You little troublemaker. Let me see you." Instead of pulling the three legged kitten into her arms Frau Bruckner stepped close to Ivan and cradled the kitten's head in her hands. She examined his ears, eyes, and mouth, tapping him lightly on the nose when he tried to bite her. "My dear, you have a fever again. You have to slow down a little, liebling." She lifted her gaze to Ivan. "His leg had a birth defect and wasn't getting enough blood flow. The veterinarian did all she could, but a dangerous infection set in and she had to amputate. He'd been recovering well, but he's still fighting off the infection. I have his medicine just here, will you hold him for me?"

Ivan nodded and Frau Bruckner reached for a little vial and a small plastic syringe that ended in a very small blunt plastic tube instead of a needle. She pressed the syringe into the bottle, which had an opening at the top just big enough for the small plastic tube, turned it upside down, and drew out a unit of medicine. Then she placed the bottle back on the counter, stepped very close to Ivan, tipped Andreas's head back, and shot the medicine into his mouth. He swallowed, and glared at her balefully. Frau Bruckner seemed unperturbed, and even leaned down to kiss the top of his head. "There." She lifted he gaze to Ivan, holding her hands out for the little kitten at last. "Thank you for looking after him."

Ivan nodded, slipping a momentarily docile Andreas in Frau Bruckner's waiting hands. "You're welcome."

Frau Bruckner turned and gently tucked Andreas into the lined box with the rest of his family, who all seemed to be settling down for an afternoon nap. Then she stood, and turned to face the group. "Thank you all for bringing the kittens back home. I'm sorry for the trouble. Ludwig did tell me he would stop by with some friends. I am still all ready for a tasting, if you will come this way." Frau Bruckner led them all into the next room, which appeared to be a front room with polished wooden floors, a small bar lined with stools, and a few matching tables and chairs scattered around the room.

"It is no trouble," Ludwig assured Frau Bruckner. "The kittens found us up on the trail; just as we were about to turn and head down to see you."

"I am grateful all the same," Frau Bruckner insisted. "Not everyone would have taken the trouble."

Ludwig and Feliciano exchanged a meaningful glance as Frau Bruckner stepped behind the small bar and began setting out glasses for each of them. "Edelweiss Vineyard has a wide variety of wines. Today we are starting with a flight of red."

Frau Bruckner lifted bottles from behind the bar and uncorked them with practiced ease. Some were already uncorked and had a pouring spout inserted. She went on about the age of the vines, the types of reds she was pouring, and the kind of soil available in the area, which contributed to the health and taste of her grapes. Although she set out seven glasses, Matthew stopped her from pouring into the last one. "Just six for the tasting," he said simply when she glanced up at him questioningly.

Frau Bruckner blinked, peered at him for a moment, then shrugged and returned to her lecture about the levels of taste that can be detected in the Spätburgunder she'd poured for them. Matthew glanced at his glass, then back at Ivan who was leaning against the wall instead of sitting at the bar.

"You can drink, Matvey," Ivan murmured, a warm smile gracing his features. "I think I will spend my time with the kittens." Before Matthew could reply Ivan had turned and was walking back into the other room.

Matthew, not wanting to be rude, tasted with the others. It was a bold and well flavored, but his mind was elsewhere. Before Frau Bruckner could pour another red, Matthew quietly excused himself, and crept into the other room after Ivan. Francis glanced over his shoulder, but Matthew smiled and waved to reassure him as he closed the door behind him.

Once the door was shut, Matthew turned and saw Ivan, sitting on the floor by the box of kittens and smiled. Ivan had one hand in the box and was very gently stoking the injured kitten he had carried, his fingers brushing through soft fur just between the ears.

"I told you that I do not mind if you drink," Ivan murmured, never turning away from the kitten who commanded his attention.

Matthew shrugged and stepped into the room, settling himself on the floor beside Ivan. "I've never been much of a drinker anyway. I usually only drink when I'm spending time with Francis. It's interesting what he knows about wine, and he taught me everything I know, but if I tasted all the wines we'll see today, even if I spat them all out like you're supposed to at tastings, I'd get a headache."

Ivan's lips curled in a small, humorless smile. "There was a time where I could go on a tour like this, drink everything that was put in front of me, and still drive home afterwards without really remembering it."

Ivan's gaze had remained fixed on the kittens as he spoke, but now he lifted it to Matthew's sad, sympathetic expression. Ivan shook his head. "Nyet. Do not make that sad face for me, Matvey. Hiding from, or regretting he past, and the consequences of our actions will not change them."

"It was brave of you to face that reality, and to change it," Matthew ventured, his finger's brushing Ivan's as they both stroked the kittens.

Another empty smile flittered over Ivan's features. "If I did not, I think I would have died."

Matthew's fingers found Ivan's amidst the kitten fur and held them. "I'm glad you didn't." At first his interactions with Ivan had been stiff, awkward, and mostly propelled by his own stubborn self determination. In the last few weeks, however, things had eased and self-determination had been replaced by a genuine interest in Ivan as a person. Ivan certainly had a temper, but he was hardly the monster some people seemed to think he was.

Ivan looked up and their eyes met. He studied Matthew in silence for a moment before murmuring, "Spasibo."

"Pozhaluysta," Matthew replied, his own voice hushed even though they were alone in the small kitchen.

They passed the rest of their time in the kitchen in companionable silence until the treading of many feet brought their combined attention to the door, just in time to watch it being thrown open by an energetic Gilbert. "That was awesome!" he declared.

The rest of their group trailed after, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Frau Bruckner, followed the group, smiling contentedly. "I am glad you enjoyed yourselves."

Matthew rose quickly to his feet and walked over to Frau Bruckner. "I'm sorry for leaving early," he apologized, glancing over his shoulder at Ivan. "I was worried about the kittens." Not technically a lie, but it was his concern for Ivan that had really driven him away. He doubted that fact was lost on Ivan, he seemed to miss very little, but Matthew hoped Frau Bruckner was fooled. He didn't want hurt feelings.

Whether she was fooled or not, Frau Bruckner smiled warmly and patted Matthew's shoulder in a friendly manner. "I should thank you, actually. It was easier for me to concentrate knowing these little ones had people looking in on them." She turned her attention to Ludwig next. "Are you sure I can't convince you to stay and try some of our whites?"

"That is a very tempting offer, Frau Bruckner," Ludwig replied, smiling, but we have a tight schedule today. I would not want to inconvenience you, or make us late for our other appointments."

"I understand," Frau Bruckner relented. "At least let me give you one of the Rieslings from my wine library. I want to thank you for bringing Clara and her kittens back to me so quickly. She would've come home eventually, she always does, but Andreas will recover more quickly if he takes his medicine regularly, and he was already late."

Ludwig looked as though he wanted to protest, then sighed softly and nodded. "Danke, Frau Bruckner. You are too kind."

Frau Bruckner smiled and crossed to the other side of the kitchen. She reached up into one of the high cabinets, barely stretching because she was so tall, and pulled down a bottle. Then she turned and held it out to Ludwig who accepted it with both hands. Ludwig glanced at the label and smiled, before removing his knapsack and placing the bottle carefully inside. "Danke fur Ihre Gastfreundschaft."

"Bitte, Ludwig," Frau Bruckner replied. "I hope you and your friends have a wonderful day." She moved to hold the door open for their small group, thanking each of them for coming as they stepped outside. She waved after them for a moment as they made their way back to the main trail before disappearing inside her home.

"What a lovely woman," Arthur commented, whipping his brow as they reached the top of the hill once more.

"She has a very big heart," Ludwig agreed, then turned his attention to the group at large. "Alright everyone! I want to see each of you drinking from your water bottles on this next stretch. The hike is long and alcohol is dehydrating. I am not going to carry anyone back to the car if you pass out." Everyone present shared brief glances and soft smiles as they obediently held up their water bottles. Frau Bruckner wasn't the only one with a big heart. Despite his bluster, Ludwig was not only the kind of person who would carry back an injured or sick friend, if he'd been alone on the trail he would have carried ever kitten and their mama down to Frau Bruckner himself.

"Do not worry yourself, Ludwig!" Francis called after he had taken a long pull from his own water bottle. "I have been drinking since you were newly formed; it will take more than a few flights of wine to knock me on my ass!"

There was a round of good natured chuckling, but Matthew frowned, reminded of Ivan's words from earlier.

_There was a time where I could go on a tour like this, drink everything that was put in front of me, and still drive home afterwards without really remembering it._

Twice now Ivan had shared a painful part of his past with Matthew. Granted, the first time had been a complete accident, but it had also been the start of them getting to know each other better. Now Matthew would consider Ivan a friend. He knew friendships weren't about keeping score, but he did feel a bit guilty that Ivan had discussed something so personal, and Matthew had only hinted at parts of his own history.

_Is hard to sleep in an empty house sometimes, yes?_

Come to think of it, Matthew hadn't _really_ talked with anyone about his separation from Alfred. At first it had been too painful. It still stung, but not the way it once had. Matthew was determined not to let his failed relationship with Alfred hold him back, and opening up to someone about what had happened felt like the right thing to do.

It wasn't just the pull of guilt that Matthew felt spurring him on; Ivan was a surprisingly easy person to talk to. He listened more than he talked, and while this had been intimidating at first, Matthew had come to realize that Ivan really considered his words before he spoke, a trait Matthew highly valued.

Matthew glanced over at Ivan who noticed his gaze and turned to look at him. Matthew slowed his pace slightly so that the others would pull ahead of them on the trail. Ivan definitely noticed, but he didn't comment, he just slowed his own pace to match.

"Thank you for coming today, Ivan," Matthew said, licking his lips nervously. "I'm glad you did."

Ivan's gaze narrowed somewhat quizzically. "Are you asking me to leave?"

"No!" Matthew protested vehemently, then lowered his voice. "No, not at all. I just…" He trailed off, looked away for a moment, and then swallowed. "I've always been shy. After… after I left Alfred I promised myself I'd try to get out more, to thrive. I'm not sure I would have seen what I did if I hadn't nerved myself to follow Felix and gotten caught in the garden… I'm still sorry for that, by the way."

Ivan smiled and Matthew, starting to feel flustered, forced himself to take a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm glad we started talking. The last six months haven't been easy, but I'm glad we've been talking on a personal level."

Ivan was silent for just long enough for Matthew to start regretting opening his mouth. Matthew's gaze had shifted to the trail in front of him and he felt heat pulsing out of his cheeks. He blinked when Ivan's water bottle was thrust into his field of vision. Matthew turned his head to follow the line of Ivan's arm up to his face. "You do not want to be dehydrated, Matvey. Ludwig will have a lecture for you."

"Thank you," Matthew replied, his voice quiet even to his own ears, as he reached out and accepted the bottle. He took a long drink from the bottle, then capped it and passed it back to Ivan.

Ivan accepted his bottle back and, as he was tucking it back into its proper place in his knapsack, he said, "I remember working with Alfred during the Revolutionary War. Many people thought he was crazy to oppose Arthur, but I helped him because of his dauntless courage. I wanted an ally with a strong backbone, and one who owes a debt is never a bad thing."

Ivan and Matthew shared a glance before Ivan pressed on. "Obviously we weren't allies for long." Ivan paused and shrugged. "Well, not long as I view history, anyway. Alfred was too impulsive and reckless. He's become rather famous for it."

Matthew let out a short, bitter laugh and looked away. He still saw so much potential in Alfred, even now, but Matthew knew he couldn't deny the truth of what Alfred was becoming.

Ivan's voice broke gently through Matthew's momentary reverie. "I do not think Alfred has done anything that was half so foolish as letting you go."

Matthew's feet faltered on the path, and he looked up at Ivan in surprise. Ivan was smiling softly at him, either oblivious to, or uncaring about, Matthew's flustered reaction.

"You are loyal in a way that can only ever be given, never taken," Ivan murmured, coming to a stop beside Matthew on the path. Matthew was both touched and saddened, because he was reminded on the loneliness Ivan must deal with every day. He'd probably wanted that kind of loyalty from the members of the Soviet Union, and they hadn't wanted to give it.

"Hey guys! Come on!" Feliciano's chipper voice called back to them. "We're almost at the next winery!"

Matthew blinked and tore his gaze away from Ivan, looking back down the path. The others had managed to get a good ways ahead of them. "Oh..." He turned his gaze back to Ivan who was smiling calmly beside him. "W-we should catch up with the others. Don't want Ludwig coming after us himself."

Ivan's smile widened and he nodded. "Let's go."

 

~*~*~*~

 

Matthew's face hurt from smiling as he and Ivan made their way up the hotel stairs. The group outing had stretched on much longer than originally intended, finally culminating in dinner at the hotel restaurant. The rest of their group was still there, talking and grazing over the remains of the food. Matthew might have stayed longer if they didn't have meetings to attend in the morning, but he would be an absolute wreck if he didn't get enough sleep.

When he'd stretched and said his goodnights to his friends, Ivan had also wished the others a good evening and joined him. They'd spent the short walk going over the highlights of the day.

At the top of the stairs Matthew turned to face Ivan, and they both stopped. "Thank you for coming today, Ivan. I had a lot of fun."

Ivan nodded. "So did I."

Matthew beamed up at him, utterly disregarding his aching muscles. It was a shame to call such a day to an end, but, as always, responsibility called. "Well, I hope you sleep well. Is your room on this floor?"

Ivan shook his head. "Nyet, I am one floor down."

"Oh." Matthew blinked up at him, touched that Ivan had climbed an extra set of stairs just to keep their conversation going.

Ivan let his knapsack slip to the floor and reached inside it. "Before you go, I have something for you."

Matthew's face wrinkled in confusion, then his mouth opened in surprise as Ivan pulled out a slim wine bottle with dark, amber colored, sweet wine inside. It was a trockenbeerenauslese, one of the wines they had been shown today at the second winery they visited. Ivan held out the bottle to him and, slowly, Matthew took it. He was surprised, confused, and touched all over again.

Matthew turned the bottle in his hands, smiling down at the label, then at Ivan. "Thank you," he murmured. "But why? You didn't have to."

"It was the only sample given today that you drank," Ivan explained, standing.

Technically Matthew had gulped the first sample of red that they'd tried, but after that he'd avoided the wines. Ivan had repeatedly told him that he didn't need to, that Vodka was much more of a trigger for him than wine, but Matthew, not being a huge fan of wines, certainly nothing like Francis, had wanted Ivan to feel included in all parts of the day, so he'd mostly refrained and spent his time talking with Ivan instead. Matthew had ignored everything, except for this trockenbeerenauslese. He'd cursed his sweet tooth, but Ivan, true to his word, hadn't seemed bothered. He'd merely continued to admire the architecture of the old-fashioned wine cellar they'd been lead to.

"Thank you," Matthew repeated, touched that Ivan, who had shared some of his own perilous history with alcohol, had gotten such a gift for him.

"You're welcome," Ivan replied, smiling as he adjusted the straps of his knapsack over his shoulder. "Goodnight, Matvey."

"Good night," Matthew echoed, watching Ivan make his way down the stairs until he disappeared around the corner. Glancing down at the bottle in his hands once more Matthew smiled, shook his head, and turned to finish the short walk to his room.


	12. Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've got to take the good with the bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Disclaimer: The actions of the personified nations are not always a reflection of their people. They ARE their people, and they are also their own unique person in this story. I absolutely do not intend to insult a people or nation if I portray a character in a less than favorable way, I mean their actions here to be more a reflection of who their are individually while also being personified nations. 
> 
> Also, I refer to the personification of Ukraine as Iryna. I know she is also sometimes called Katyusha. I chose Iryna from a list of the personified nations human names that I believe was given by the creator of Hetalia, and decided to stick with it.
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to this story! I love hearing back from my readers. Your responses make my day and, I hope, make me a better writer.
> 
> For those of you who are curious, I am one of Alfred's people. Ironic since I'm not painting him in the best light right now, but many things will happen before we reach the end of the story. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 12: Solace

 

Matthew's head was swimming, and _not_ in a good way. He was in the middle of an awkward and uncomfortable meeting with Carlos Machado, the personification of Cuba. Generally Matthew's relations with Carlos were amicable. When they met face to face, however, Carlos tended to present as tense or even outright hostile. This was not because of any hidden tensions, but solely because Matthew resembled Alfred, whom Carlos had not been on good terms with for some time.

Matthew did his best to be patient, but today he was at the _end_ of his temper. Carlos had apologized not two minutes ago, but now an arrogant, condescending sneer was working its way over his lips, and he was muttering what sounded like, "Capitalist Pig," under his breath. Matthew's mouth snapped shut mid-sentence, the trade figures he had been speaking of, utterly forgotten. " _What_ is your problem? I'm not Alfred. I _know_ you know that! Can you focus on the meeting at hand for _five minutes_?! Or would you rather sit and mumble insults in the corner like a _child_?"

Anyone else would have been silent with shock because Matthew _never_ yelled, but Carlos, who was already escalated, wasn't about to back down. Carlos slammed his fists down against the tabletop and spat vitriol back across at Matthew, switching into Spanish in the middle of his first sentence.

Matthew stood, and Carlos stood with him, pointing and gesturing vehemently as he spoke. Matthew wasn't fluent in Spanish, and he was out of any patience he might have had to try. "I don't speak fucking Spanish, you lunatic!"

Carlos, never known for backing down once his anger was riled, rounded the table and pressed himself menacingly into Matthew's personal space. Matthew leaned back, but Carlos was unrelenting, pressing in further. Matthew stumbled back a step, then reached up and shoved Carlos backwards hard. Carlos was a strong, sturdy man, he barely gave an inch. Instead he stiffened, his nostrils flared and he hauled Matthew towards him by the fabric of his shirt.

At just that moment the door to the conference room flew open and Ludwig charged in, forcibly insinuating himself between Matthew and Carlos. "What's going on here?!"

Matthew backed off immediately, his face flushing with shame. Carlos, however, was not so easily calmed, and tried more than once to push Ludwig out of the way. Thankfully Ludwig would not be moved. "This meeting is over." Ludwig wasn't yelling, but his words were hard, cold, and irrefutable. "Matthew, I suggest you send out the minutes later today along with a suggested schedule for your next meeting. It will have to be a remote meeting since this conference schedule is already full."

Matthew nodded sheepishly, ducking his head, and feeling about two inches tall. "Yes, of course. I apologize." Matthew shuffled out of the room quickly, trying not to trip over his own feet in his haste.

Great. Just perfect…

Matthew rushed through the halls of the hotel and conference center, keeping his eyes on the carpet and muttering to himself. What was _wrong_ with him today?

Stupid question. It was obvious what was wrong. It was the second to last day of the Autumn world conference, and tomorrow he had to sit through a meeting with _Alfred_. Matthew didn't even know if Alfred would be there; he'd completely ditched the meeting they had scheduled at the summer conference. For months now Matthew had only been dealing directly with America's boss or other representatives.

Honestly, Matthew couldn't decide what he hated most: the silent treatment from Alfred, his utter lack of professionalism, or the thought that one day, probably soon, Alfred would forget any feelings he had ever had for Matthew. The idea that Alfred would eventually treat his meetings with Matthew like any other meeting shouldn't sting so much, but it _did_...

Matthew stalled, stumbling to a halt in front of one of the small lounge areas the hotel had nestled by a large window. There was a lush potted plant and two small arm chairs angled towards the window, with convenient outlets nearby for visitors to charge their various electronic devices while they worked or rested.

With a world weary sigh, Matthew collapsed into one of the two chairs and hunched over, his face in his hands. The start of this conference had been so promising… despite the rough start his hike with Ivan and the others had gone realty well… he'd had a lot of fun…

The reality of life, whether one was human or a personified nation, was that you had to take the good days with the bad, and today was just one of the bad ones.

Matthew groaned softly and leaned back in his chair, letting his hands fall to his lap while he kept his eyes closed. The only thing he could focus on now that would do any good was possible solutions. He was already over-prepared for his meeting with Alfred—best not to give that meeting anymore thought. He would take a breather, he would go back to his room, he would write the e-mail that Ludwig had suggested with an apology to Carlos, and a separate, apology e-mail to Ludwig himself. Hopefully Ludwig wouldn't hold a grudge against him for his bad behavior…

"Having a bad day, Matvey?"

Matthew blinked open his eyes and looked up at Ivan, who was standing close to him in the little alcove. "Yeah," he admitted, offering a tight-lipped smile.

Ivan seemed to hesitate for a moment before he crouched down in front of Matthew's chair and lightly rested his hand over Matthew's smaller one. "Want to talk about it?"

Matthew's expression softened until his smile was genuine and touched. "I'd really like that."

 

~*~*~*~

 

Alfred stretched his arms high in the air, and sucked in a long, loud yawn. _Finally!_ He'd thought that meeting would _never_ end. The world conferences were always such a pain in the ass. There was too much work and way too little play. He didn't even have his meetings with Mattie to look forward to anymore…

Not that it mattered.

Mattie had made his choice, and Alfred _sure as hell_ wasn't about to take him back.

Yeah, it had been fun spending time with Mattie, especially when he was trying to get work done and Alfred was trying to seduce him. Most of the time Mattie would resist until they got back to their room, but every so often Alfred would manage to break down his defenses…

Alfred shrugged and shook his head, trying to keep the sly smile that had been forming off his face. They were good memories, sure, but Mattie hadn't appreciated what he'd had. It was over and done; time to move on to greener pastures.

Alfred rounded the corner and all but ran out of the hotel, into the sunshine and fresh air. He was done with his meetings for the day, _thank god._ Now it was time to shake things up. Alfred craned his head, this way and that, taking in the beautiful day and considering his options. There were a few good taverns nearby, but it might be better to get a cab and go a bit further out. The last thing he wanted was to endure another talk from Arthur the High and Mighty. Alfred was sick of deleting his _lectures_ from his voicemail _,_ and dodging Arthur _and_ Francis in the halls... They said they were concerned and they wanted to talk, but those were all false promises. Alfred knew _better_. They'd rallied around Mattie for some stupid reason and Alfred didn't want to hear their excuses... God, he just wanted a _drink_.

Alfred was just reaching for his phone to get an Uber or something, when a bright splash of yellow caught his attention. He peered at the second story window, leaning his whole body to the side to get a better view… Well, speak of the devil. It was Mattie, half collapsed in one of those chairs this hotel put by all its large windows. Huh… Mattie looked _terrible._ His last meeting must have been even worse than the one Alfred had just left.

Part of Alfred felt justified. Mattie had walked out on him, and now he was getting some _payback_. Another, surprisingly large part of Alfred, was tempted to go ask what was wrong. Mattie was always freaking out about the stupidest things. It might not be a bad idea to remind him _who_ was the bigger man, offer to take him out for a drink, maybe. Mattie might even be grateful enough to finally freaking _apologize_. Not that Alfred intended to take him back right away, no. There would need to be a lot of groveling first.

Alfred had just begun to turn back to the hotel entrance when he spied a tall gray figure creeping up to Matthew.

 _Russia_.

What the _hell_ was Russia doing talking to Mattie? It had been a long, long time since Alfred and Russia had even been on speaking terms; Russia was nothing but bad news. Alfred went up on the balls of his feet, ready to run in and chase the bastard off. Mattie would have to be doubly grateful now for the rescue and Alfred's company. Before Alfred could actually get any traction, however, Russia leaned in close to Mattie, and Mattie freaking _smiled_ at him. Alfred watched, dumbstruck, as they stood and walked off together.

So that was how it was, huh? _Fine._

Alfred pointedly turned away and whipped out his phone, intent on summoning an Uber.

 

~*~*~*~

 

"It's _not_ funny, Ivan!" Matthew insisted, even though his own mirth threatened to bubble over in response to Ivan's. Matthew had explained the crux of his frustrations to Ivan during the short walk back to his room. While he welcomed Ivan's company, he didn't really want to see anyone else right now. Ivan seemed to understand, and even welcomed the idea. Currently they were sitting on the small sofa Matthew's room offered, turned slightly to face each other.

"No?" Ivan's grin was as infectious as his laugh. "Then why are you smiling?"

Matthew shook his head, finally releasing the chuckles that wanted to break free. "Fine, whatever. I just hope Carlos can laugh about it as easily as we are."

"I don't see why not," Ivan replied. "It's hardly the first time there's been an argument at a meeting, and this one didn't even end in bloodshed."

The mirth bled away from Matthew's expression and he looked down at his hands. "No, but I'm still disappointed in myself."

"Regret will not fix your problems," Ivan murmured.

Matthew lifted his head and met Ivan's serious expression. Ivan had a point, but Matthew was still dissatisfied with his behavior. Even so, the only thing he could do now was try to make amends. Carlos, when he wasn't being a forgetful dickhead, was actually pretty easy going. It would probably be fine. Matthew nodded a small smile slotting into place as he said, "Yeah, you're right. Thank you, Ivan."

"You're welcome, Matvey," Ivan murmured.

Matthew sighed softly, trying to let the tension drain out of his body. Now that he was a bit calmer he realized he was hungry. Matthew opened his mouth, glanced over at the bedside clock, then shut it again, and frowned.

"What?" Ivan asked, following Matthew's line of sight to the bedside clock with a puzzled frown of his own.

"Do you want to get some room service?" Ivan and Matthew turned back towards each other, Ivan's confused expression meeting Matthew's hopeful one. "The hotel restaurant's likely to be packed at this hour, and I don't really feel up for crowds at the moment."

Ivan hesitated just a moment too long, and Matthew started to backpedal.

"You don't have too, I was just thinking I'd make tonight a night in, and rest up a bit for tomorrow's meetings. I don't want to interfere with any plans you might have."

"I do not have any plans," Ivan said slowly, "I just thought you would want to spend some time with Gilbert."

"Gilbert?" Matthew echoed, his own face clouding with confusion. "I mean, he's a good friend, but he probably has plans with Ludwig and Feliciano." After another moment's contemplation, Matthew asked, "Why did you think I had plans with Gilbert?"

"You were always very close with Alfred when you were together," Ivan replied. "…I thought Gilbert might be sharing your room now."

Matthew gaped disbelievingly at Ivan. "Gilbert?! You thought I was dating _Gilbert_?" He shook his head. It wasn't really such a strange thought, considering how much Gilbert was known to flirt with Matthew, but it had only ever been a friendly flirtation. Hell, Gilbert hadn't even gone as far as flirting while Alfred and Matthew were together. "No. Gilbert and I aren't dating. He's actually in a committed relationship with two other people. I think they might be married, but I haven't asked. They want to be very discreet about it."

Ivan was silent for a long moment, trying to absorb this new information. At last he asked, "His lover's let him flirt?"

Matthew smiled, slightly more at ease. "I don't know the details. Like I said, I didn't pry. Gilbert's very earnest when something really matters to him. I don't think he would do something that would upset the people he cares about."

Gilbert and Ivan had lived together for a number of years, for political reasons, and Ivan knew him well enough to know that Matthew was right. He nodded to himself then turned to face Matthew. "I apologize for my misunderstanding. I will stay for dinner."

Instead of reaching for the menu the hotel had provided, it was Matthew's turn to hesitate. "Would you really not have stayed if I was dating Gilbert?"

"No," Ivan assured him, "I just wouldn't want to get in the way. You and Alfred were almost never apart, even before you were married."

Matthew made a face at the abrupt reminder of his past behavior. "Yeah, well, I think I spent too much time focused on my relationship in the past. It's more than time for a change." Matthew leaned over to the small desk in his room and retrieved the menu the hotel provided. "What looks good to you?"

Ivan took the menu and casually flipped through the pages. It mirrored the menu for the restaurant attached to the hotel. "I would like the sausages with peppers and onions," Ivan said, passing the menu back to Matthew. "What are you getting?"

"Hmmm, I was going to ask if they would still make a crepe from their breakfast menu," Matthew mused as he flipped distractedly through the plastic covered pages.

"Too many sweets are not good for you," Ivan admonished gently.

Matthew grinned unabashedly at him over the menu. "It hasn't killed me yet." His grin faded into a more sober smile. "But you do have a point." His gaze flickered down to the menu again. "What about the pear and gorgonzola salad with candied pecans? It's sweet, but I'll still get some vegetables."

"It's your choice, but shouldn't you have something more substantial?" Ivan asked.

Matthew shrugged. "How do you think I get away with eating sweets so often? I don't have a big appetite. Although, now that you mention it, I guess I'll tack on a brownie." Ivan chuckled quietly as Matthew reached around for the room phone, dialed the kitchen, and placed their orders.

The hotel had excellent service and their food was delivered very quickly. The coffee table by the sofa was a bit short for a dinner table, but they made the best of it. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Matthew's phone vibrated, interrupting them. Matthew set his salad aside, fished his phone out of his pocket, stared at it for a moment, then smiled.

"Good news?" Ivan asked, slicing off another chunk of his sausages and lifting it to his mouth.

Matthew spun the phone around so that Ivan could see the screen. "Kuma spent the afternoon destroying some toys."

On the screen was a picture of Matthew's miniature polar bear flopped down in the middle of a pile of stuffing and torn apart dog toys.

Ivan glanced at Matthew over the phone. "Does he do this often?"

Matthew nodded, turning the phone back around and smiling at the screen as he replied. "Every chance he gets. It makes a terrible mess, so I don't by soft toys for him often, but Margaret spoils him rotten whenever he comes to visit."

Ivan chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "You miss him."

"Of course I do," Matthew scoffed, sliding his phone into his pocket. "Don't you miss Blue?"

Ivan opened his mouth to say that he didn't, and then paused. He had mentioned Blue only once before, during his first video chat with Matthew. He was honestly surprised that Matthew remembered; most people wouldn't have bothered.

Ivan's relationship with Blue had always been distant, which seemed to suit the cat just fine. He hadn't intended to get a cat, Blue had just appeared during one of Iryna's brief visits. She'd taken an immediate liking to the creature. After a few days of leaving out food and water, Ivan had walked into the kitchen to find Blue nestled contentedly in Iryna's lap.

Iryna was the female personification of Ukraine, and Ivan's older sister. Growing up they had been inseparable, but her bosses eventually demanded that she keep her distance from her younger brother, for political reasons.

Ivan and Iryna had both been devastated, but they both also understood the obligations of duty. First and foremost they had to serve their people as well as they could. Ivan did his best be stoic and reserved at world meetings but he always felt the weight of Iryna's eyes on him.

He'd never meant to keep Blue, but after Iryna left he'd stayed and, when Ivan was at home, he continued to put food and water out.

The gentle pressure of fingers on Ivan's hand brought his attention back to Matthew.

"Are you okay?" Matthew's violet gaze shone with a concern that startled Ivan into looking away again.

"Da, Matvey. I am fine."

Matthew pressed his lips into a thin line and withdrew his hand from Ivan. He didn't believe Ivan, but it also wasn't his place to pry. Being a personified nation often came with tragic memories. Not only was Ivan one of the older personified nations, but his history had been fraught with hardships. Part of his land was all but inhospitable, and his people had suffered under countless attacks, upheavals, and several tyrannical bosses. Matthew couldn't undo any of those things; no one could. Ivan's history wasn't all bad, no one's was, but that didn't make the painful memories any easier to live with. All Matthew could really do was offer his company and companionship. He gestured with his salad fork to Ivan's plate. "Don't let your food get cold."

Ivan glanced between Matthew's plate and his own, then chuckled softly. "But it's okay for you to start in on desert when you haven't even finished your salad?"

Matthew glanced guiltily over to his unwrapped brownie. He _had_ taken a bite out of the corner only a few bites into his salad. "I need the calories?" Matthew suggested, grinning sheepishly at Ivan.

Ivan shook his head and smiled, working his knife through one of the thicker sausages on his plate. "You need healthy calories too." Without prompting or permission, Ivan placed one of his sausages on Matthew's plate.

Matthew didn't protest. Instead he lifted a portion of his salad from his own plate and deposited it onto Ivan's. "So do you."

Ivan leaned back on his sofa in front of a roaring fire he'd just finished stoking. He'd returned from the autumn world conference today. His suitcase was neatly unpacked and stored for future use, and he had the rest of the day to himself.

A familiar chirp sounded from the floor, and then Ivan felt a weight settle on the fabric of the sofa, pulling it taunt with little footfalls. Ivan glanced down into familiar blue eyes. "Hello, Blue," he murmured, stretching out his hand for the cat to sniff. It did so, then butted up against his fingers, purring loudly. Ivan hadn't seen the cat sneak back into the house, but that was hardly a surprise. It wouldn't be the first time Blue had stalked in beside Ivan, silent and unnoticed.

"There is food for you in the kitchen, go," Ivan said, waggling his fingers at Blue who, like most felines, utterly disregarded his orders and curled up beside him, pressing her body into Ivan's thigh.

Ivan sighed and stroked the fur under his hand, enjoying the quiet.

Someone rapped loudly on the front door, startling both man and cat. Blue jumped up and ran into the kitchen at last. Ivan stood, grumbled softly to himself, and made his way to the door. He wrenched it open and glowered at the thin young man on his doorstep. Then he noticed the large bouquet of sunflowers the man was holding.

"I have a delivery for Ivan Braginski," the stranger said.

"I am Ivan." He was speaking to the stranger, but his eyes remained locked on the flowers.

"Will you sign here, please?" the stranger asked, holding out a small clipboard. Ivan tore his gaze away from the flowers and mechanically signed the delivery notice. As soon as he was finished the young man took back the clipboard and eased the hefty vase into Ivan's hands. "Have a good day, sir."

Ivan nodded dumbly, and closed the door. Who on earth would send him flowers? Iryna was the only person who might, and she knew that Ivan's favorite flowers were sunflowers… but he hadn't spoken to her in _years_.

Gently, Ivan set the vase and bouquet down on a table beside the sofa. This couldn't be from Iryna, her bosses would know and she would face consequences…Or had she decided she didn't care, and sent this to him anyway?

Ivan was debating with himself whether or not he should contact her when a small white envelope nestled among the flowers caught his attention. Ivan plucked it from the small plastic stand that held it, and pulled out the note inside.

_Dear Ivan,_

_I wanted to thank you for spending some time with me at the autumn conference. I really enjoyed hiking the trails with you, and I'm very grateful that you spent some time with me the second to last night. It wasn't one of my better days, and I was glad to have a friend with me. I know we technically just saw each other, but I wanted to invite you to my home in Ottawa on the week of October 16_ _th_ _. The fall colors should be vibrant then, given the weather we've had this year, and I'd love to show you some of the trails near my home. I understand if this is too short notice, or you have other obligations._

_Say hi to Blue for me,_

_\- Matthew_

Ivan gazed at the letter in his hands, then back to the flowers, and smiled. It hadn't been Iryna, but that was okay. She was safe, doing what she needed to do for her people, and this was a gesture Ivan could safely respond to and return. Normally he wasn't fond of traveling if it wasn't for work… but this time he could make an exception.


	13. A Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan visits Matthew's home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, subscribed to, and/or bookmarked my story! I love hearing back from my readers, and your support means a lot. ^_^ I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 13: A Visitor

 

Matthew circled his house for the seventh time that morning, scanning for anything he might have missed.

"Everything's clean!" Kumajiro wined from his position in front of the currently dormant fireplace. He was a bit grumpy after being forced to tolerate a thorough grooming this morning.

Matthew nodded to himself. "Time to go." He ignored Kumajiro's over dramatic sigh as he gathered his supplies. Before he left Matthew made a point of stopping beside Kumajiro to rub the soft fur of his stomach and say goodbye. "I'll be back soon, Kuma. Be good."

"Bring back food," Kumajiro grumbled, shifting in place to get more comfortable on the cool stones of the hearth.

"I'll feed you later, Kuma," Matthew replied, smiling at his companion's predictable request. "You've already had your breakfast." If Matthew was honest with himself, he probably over-fed Kuma. Kumajiro was lucky that his runs through the forest kept his metabolism strong.

Matthew was almost at the door before Kumajiro spoke again. "Don't be nervous."

Matthew halted in place, his hand outstretched twoards the handle of the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Kumajiro. "I'm not nervous."

Kumajiro lazily lifted his head and stared pointedly at Matthew. "You cleaned the house _seven_ times."

Matthew abruptly turned around and continued making his way to the car, locking the house behind him. It hadn't been seven, not really, but arguing with Kumajiro was only going to make him late.

The road to the airport was a beautiful drive. It was just past peak color season, which in Matthew's opinion was the real peak; he liked seeing a mix of bare trees with the rest of the autumn colors. Today wasn't a day for hiking though. That would be tomorrow or the next day, depending on how tired Ivan was.

Matthew deftly navigated his car into the short term visitor's parking lot, checked Ivan's arrival time, and made his way inside the appropriate terminal. He was early, of course. He always left himself extra time when picking up guests from the airport. Once he identified where he needed to wait Matthew checked his watch, then strayed to the windows of the nearby shops.

Window shopping was the best part of being in an airport. There were always plenty of books and there were often unique crafts and other knickknacks from local artists or suppliers. The store Matthew was currently in front of had a large display of dreamcatchers, and Matthew lost himself in tracing the patterns of the threads with his eyes. Some dreamcatchers had feathers in them, while others had bright, sparking gems or charms. Some were wrapped in leather and others looked like their outer circle was carved with wood.

"See something you like?"

Matthew turned his head, and then started. "Ivan!"

"Hello," Ivan replied, lifting one hand and waving at Matthew.

"I-I'm sorry," Matthew stammered, turning to face Ivan properly. "I got a bit distracted. I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

Ivan shook his head. "Nyet. I just came from my plane and saw you waiting here."

"Oh, good." Matthew took a breath and put on his best smile . "Welcome. I'm glad you could come. Do you need me to help you carry anything?"

Ivan was carrying two large bags over his shoulder, and a heavy looking duffle bag in one hand, but he still shook his head with an easy smile. "Nyet, I am fine."

Matthew nodded, impressed by Ivan's strength. His luggage looked cumbersome, but he stood and moved as though he wasn't carrying anything. Dragging his eyes back to Ivan's face, Matthew turned in the direction of the parking lot, gesturing for Ivan to follow. "Okay. I parked in the short term visitor's parking lot; it's not far."

They made their way together through the crowd of people, out into the cool autumn air. The sun shone brightly, but not warmly, and stray leaves floated here and there on the wind. Ivan looked around him as they walked, enjoying the scenery.

"How was your flight?" Matthew asked, sticking his hands in the pocket of his hoodie as they walked.

"Long," Ivan replied, "I am glad to be out of the plane." He looked it, too; his face was relaxed and easy as he glanced back at Matthew, his smile crinkling the edges of his eyes.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Matthew replied. "I hate long flights too. After two hours I'm ready to get off no matter where we are. Ah, here's the car."

Matthew opened the trunk for Ivan, who quickly and neatly stored his bags. They both climbed in and as he secured his seatbelt Matthew pointed out the supplies he'd brought with him. "There's a blanket in the back if you're cold, but if you're hot don't hesitate to turn on the A/C. I also brought some water and snacks if you're hungry."

Ivan glanced behind him to see there was indeed a soft looking blanket neatly folded in the back seat. Then he turned his attention to the drink holders between the driver and the passenger's seat, where Matthew had been gesturing. There was a tall water bottle in one holder, and a bag of sliced apples and grapes in the other one. Matthew had put a great deal of thought into his comfort. He lifted his grateful eyes to Matthew's energetic ones. "Spasibo."

Matthew nodded and smiled. "You're welcome."

Traffic was light and the drive to Matthew's little cabin was mercifully short. Ivan nibbled lightly on the snacks, but mostly he just enjoyed the scenery. Matthew had mentioned the fall colors would be good, and he'd been right. As they made their way down the quiet forest roads to Matthew's home, it felt like the world was awash with color.

Matthew's cabin was neatly tucked into the trees that surrounded it, and despite the power lines running to it, it looked like it belonged there. While Ivan stood admiring, Matthew snuck around to the back of the car and had lifted the strap of one of Ivan's large bags over his shoulder. When Ivan glanced back, Matthew was tottering under its weight.

"Careful," Ivan admonished, moving to the back of the car and grabbing Matthew's shoulders to steady him.

"I'm okay," Matthew assured him. "But _what_ did you pack in here? Bowling balls?"

Ivan chuckled softly. "I like to be prepared. Perhaps you should leave the luggage to me?"

"I've got this one," Matthew insisted, "but you can get the other two if you must."

Ivan watched Matthew stagger down the small path to the cabin for a few moments before shaking his head to himself and lifting the other two bags out of the trunk, shutting it soundly, and following Matthew inside. The cabin was dimly lit, but the light streaming in from the sliding glass doors on the far side of the living room more than made up for that. It was an open floor plan with most of the living room to the right of the entrance, and a small kitchen area that was open to the living room straight forward from the front door. There was a staircase directly to Ivan's left, but Matthew led him a bit further, down a hallway that veered off to the left just before the kitchen. Ivan glimpsed a computer on a desk in a room at the end of the hall, before Matthew turned and opened the door of a room to the right.

"This is the guest room," Matthew explained, stepping inside.

Ivan followed and was greeted by a room with a large bed, neatly made up with plush pillows and an elaborate quilt that rivaled even the trees outside for color. The bed was pushed into the far right corner, with a trunk at its base, and a window directly across from the door. Along the wall just to the right of the door was a large wooden dresser, then a small desk and chair.

"There's a closet over there," Matthew said, pointing to the wall to the left which sported a plain wooden door. "There's also a bathroom, just a little further down the hall to the right with a linen cabinet built into the wall, just before the bathroom door."

"And your study is at the end of the hall," Ivan added.

Matthew started a bit and nodded. "Yeah, did you recognize it?"

"I saw the computer and I recognized the hallway," Ivan explained.

Matthew nodded. "Right. Well, I'll let you get settled in. Just let me know if you need anything. I'll just be in the living room." With a little wave, Matthew turned and walked back out into the hall.

Kumajiro hadn't moved from his napping position on the hearth, and Matthew settled himself beside him, reaching out and burying a hand in to long soft fur of Kumajiro's belly. Kumajiro sighed, and stretched, but otherwise did not move, content to sleepily bask in the affection.

Matthew didn't count the minutes, but it didn't seem like all that long until Ivan was walking out into the living room. Ivan paused at the side of Matthew's futon couch and stared down at Kumajiro with an amused smile on his face. "He's pretty tame for a polar bear."

Kumajiro cracked open one eye to survey Ivan before wiggling his front paws in the air and demanding, "Feed me."

Matthew chuckled and ruffled Kuamjiro's fur more energetically. "I think the word you're looking for is _spoiled_. Don't let him con you; he gets fed plenty!"

Kumajiro groaned in protest and rolled onto his side, facing away from both of them. Matthew's eyes found Ivan's and he smiled. "Don't feel obligated to be up and about if you're tired. I figured today would be a slow, stay at home sort of day."

Ivan tilted his head at Matthew, a sly smile working over his lips. "And what did you have planned for tomorrow?"

Matthew shrugged. "Maybe some hiking if you felt up to it. We're really close to some good trails."

Ivan glanced out the windows at the forest around them. "And if I felt up to some hiking today?"

Matthew perked up slightly, but forced himself to remain seated. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to showing Ivan around. "Really? Are you sure?"

Ivan's smile widened and he nodded. "Da. I kept my boots on for a reason."

"Great!" Matthew did stand now, brushing thick white fur off his hands. "You want to come too, Kuma?"

"Sleepy," Kumajiro protested, shifting in place once more until he was wound into a tight little ball of fur.

Matthew sighed and shook his head. "You're just going to be a handful later, but if you insist." He looked back over to Ivan. They were both dressed in boots, long pants and shirts, well, hoodie in Matthew's case, but still. "I've got some sun block and mosquito repellant by the door. We could be on the trails in five minutes if you want."

"Sounds good to me," Ivan replied.

Most people didn't think of those precautions in the fall, but it wasn't quite yet cold enough to send all the bugs into hiding, and the falling leaves also meant less sun cover. It would be even worse in the winter when the snow would reflect back the sunlight.

Matthew hadn't really intended to jog out the door and down the trail, but he'd spent all morning full of nervous energy in anticipation of Ivan's arrival, and even his thorough and repetitive cleaning of the house hadn't been enough to burn it off. Ivan, far from protesting, kept up with him.

Matthew grinned over at him for a moment before facing forward and picking up speed as the path curved up and over a small hill in the direction of the lake. There was a short huff of laughter behind him before Ivan pulled into the lead. They ran, whooping and laughing out into the clearing by the lake, and halfway around it before either of them slowed down.

"I didn't know this was a race," Ivan said, his breathing elevated from the short burst of exercise.

"I didn't either," Matthew admitted. "I guess I had some energy to burn off."

Ivan nodded. "Me too." His gaze shifted from Matthew to the large expanse of lake before them. "This is pretty."

"It is," Matthew replied smiling. "There's a good trail that branches off from the other end of the lake. It climbs up the hill until it reaches an outlook with an almost panoramic view."

"Let's go, then," Ivan said, moving forward at a brisk walking pace. Matthew fell into step beside him, grinning from ear to ear. It was silly to be this happy about a stupid walk, but he couldn't help it. The weather was beautiful, Ivan was in good spirits, and instead of being tired as they both ought to be, they were brimming with energy.

Together they followed the trail to the edge of the lake, then further as it veered left, back into the forest. The path crept slowly up the steep elevation of the hill, winding around trees, rocks, and sharp cliffs. The trail was solid and well maintained, but Matthew sometimes deviated, hopping rock to rock in a sea of leaves, or walking along an old fallen log with his hands held out to his sides for balance. A soft chuckle brought his attention back to Ivan, who was following along on the trail proper, watching him.

"You _do_ have energy," Ivan observed, as Matthew hopped back down onto the trail.

Matthew shot him a sheepish grin. "It's just been _so_ long since I've had anyone but Kuma to walk the trails with." Matthew turned away, flushing slightly with embarrassment. It wasn't as if Ivan didn't know that Matthew lived alone now. Still his last statement highlighted the loneliness he'd felt, and that wasn't a truth Matthew was all that comfortable with.

Ivan breathed deeply and looked about him as they walked. "It's a beautiful forest. I can see why you like it here. I will have to show you some of the forests near my home sometime."

"I'd really like that," Matthew murmured, slowing his pace beside Ivan as he looked at him.

Ivan returned the smile, flattered. It had been a long time since someone had looked that happy at the thought of coming to visit him. He wanted to see more of it. "You said fall and winter are your favorite seasons, yes?"

Matthew nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. I like the colors of fall, and the way winter completely changes the landscape." Matthew paused and looked out at the landscape around them. "It's almost counterintuitive. In fall and winter many plants and animals go dormant, and chances of surviving the elements get worse almost every day. Rationally it should be a time that's feared, but all over the world it's a time people celebrate harvests, family, and helping others. It's the darkest time of the year, and people fill it with light."

Ivan smiled at Matthews optimism. He wasn't wrong, but winter was still a difficult time for Ivan. Even without his previous battles with the elements, the last time he'd seen his sister, Iryna, was on his birthday, December 30th, all those years ago…

Forcing his mind into the present, Ivan followed Matthew up the last little distance towards the viewpoint Matthew had spoken of. Matthew reached for Ivan's hand to steady him as they scrambled up the last steep slope of rock and out onto the projection of the cliff. Once they were at the top, Matthew released Ivan's hand with one final squeeze, and took a few steps out towards the cliff edge before turning back and asking, "What do you think?"

They were higher up than Ivan thought they would be, and it was every bit as picturesque as Matthew has said it would be. This cliff jutted out, past the trees and the surrounding hills opened up to them. Ivan stepped forward and peered down; he could see a brown hawk flying in the air _below_ him, over the lake they had left behind. "It's beautiful."

Matthew shot him a smile of agreement, before easing down so that he was sitting on the cliff surface, his feet dangling over the edge. A moment later, Ivan joined him. They sat together in silence for a long time, watching the scene spread out before them as the sun sank lower and lower towards the horizon. It was peaceful up here, and after the noise and the confinement of his long flight, Ivan reveled in it.

"Is that from your sister? The sunflower is her national flower, right?"

Ivan blinked and turned to look at Matthew, who was leaning back on his hands and looking down at Ivan's lap. Ivan followed Matthew's gaze and saw his handkerchief, the one with the sunflower embroidered on it, peeking out of the edge of his pocket.

Ivan flushed and quickly shoved a hand in his pocket, pushing the handkerchief down and out of sight. "Nyet," he replied, studiously avoiding Matthew's gaze. "I bought it because it reminded me of her." Ivan never really talked about his sister, to anyone. Then again, it had been a very long time since anyone had dared to ask him anything remotely personal.

Matthew frowned and shifted so that he was facing Ivan. "Did anything happen to her?" He hadn't heard of Iryna, the personification of Ukraine, dying and being reformed, but he'd never been particularly close to any country in that part of the world either.

Ivan swallowed and shook his head. "Nyet. She is fine..." Silence stretched between them long and thick before Ivan could bring himself to add, "She just doesn't talk to me anymore."

"I'm sorry," Matthew murmured. He reached forward and gently placed one of his hands over Ivan's, which had balled into a fist and started shaking.

"It is for political reasons, not personal," Ivan said. He did and he didn't want to stop talking. On the one hand this was a painful topic that he rarely, if ever, entertained, even in his own head. On the other hand, he'd never had anyone he felt he _could_ talk to about this either. It was a sensitive topic, but Matthew had never breathed a word of what had transpired between Ivan and Toris, and that was just as painful, in its own way.

Matthew let out a short, aggravated growl. "I _hate_ when leaders put up restrictions like that. Our personal lives are _none_ of their business!"

Matthew's anger was both palpable and wholly unexpected. Ivan looked up at Matthew in surprise, and Matthew's expression suddenly turned sheepish.

"That probably made the sunflowers I sent you a really bad idea, huh?" Matthew shook his head. "I'm sorry."

Ivan's hand shifted under Matthews, turned, and clasped it. "You do not need to be sorry, Matvey. I liked the flowers, and the invitation that came with them."

Matthew smiled hesitantly. "Yeah? I'm glad."

Silence settled over them once more. At length, and with reluctance, Matthew murmured, "We should probably head back now." He didn't want to leave. He'd brought Alfred up here a few times when they were still together, but it hadn't been anywhere near this peaceful and quiet. ...Not that he was obsessing over Alfred. More practically, Ivan and he _would_ be at a disadvantage if the sun went down on them before they got back to the house.

Wordlessly, Ivan stood and brushed off his pants, then reached a hand down for Matthew, who accepted it and used the leverage to pull himself to his feet as well. The walk down the hill and around the lake was quicker than their assent, even without any impromptu races, and they were just coming up to Matthew's cabin as the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky.

As soon as they pushed open the door, Kumajiro rubbed up against their legs like a cat and started begging. "Fooooood!" he whined, looking up at Matthew with sad round eyes.

Matthew chuckled and ruffled the fur under Kumajiro's left ear before pushing against him to force him back from the door. "Yes, yes. I haven't forgotten. You're food's thawing and ready to go, just let me wash my hands."

Kumajiro stayed glued to Matthew's side as he washed up in the kitchen sink, then moved to the fridge and pulled out a small clear container that looked to be filled with raw meat. Kumajiro was whining in earnest now, but Matthew looked calmly down at him and instructed him. "Kuma, get your bowl."

Kumajiro dashed off down the hallway into the study and quickly returned bearing a large metal bowl. Matthew accepted the bowl, set it on the counter, and upended the container of meat over it. The meat hit the bowl with a wet 'smack', and Matthew turned around to reach into the freezer. He pulled out a tray of green ice cubes, and broke out several of them into Kumajiro's bowl with the meat.

Matthew must have felt Ivan's puzzled stare, because he glanced over his shoulder and smiled at him as he returned the ice cube tray to the freezer. "I feed Kuma a raw diet. He's already had his bones for the day, and he gets raw meat and veggie pops twice a day."

"Veggie pops?" Ivan asked, following Matthew with his eyes as he set Kumajiro's food bowl down beside his water bowl in the kitchen.

Matthew stood and nodded. "Vegetables are easier for him to digest if I grind them up with some oils and freeze them into little popsicles."

Ivan made a quiet noise in the back of his throat to indicate he'd heard as his gaze shifted back to Kumajiro. Despite all his eagerness, Kumajiro was not inhaling his food. Instead, he seemed to be savoring it, chewing it down into tiny little bites.

"I hope salmon and brussel sprouts are okay for dinner."

Ivan lifted his gaze back to Matthew, who was pulling a pink salmon filet out of the fridge. "Yes, of course." Matthew beamed at him, and then turned his head to focus on the task at hand. He looked happier than Ivan had ever seen him at a world conference. That was to be expected, of course, this was one of Matthew's homes. Most personified nations had several, but now that he thought of it, Ivan had never seen any other home when he and Matthew connected over video chat to play chess.

"Do you spend most of your time here?" Ivan asked, sitting on one of the tall chairs pushed up against the kitchen island.

Matthew nodded as he covered a cooking sheet with tinfoil. "Almost exclusively."

"It shows," Ivan replied, glancing around the kitchen and living room once more. Matthew's home was warm, radiant, and understated, much like the man himself. It was so different from the cold, museum polish of Ivan's home near Moscow.

Ivan watched as Matthew laid the salmon on the tin foil covered baking tray, and then drizzled it with salt and olive oil. The salmon went almost directly into the stove, which had been pre-heating while Matthew prepped the salmon. Once the stove was shut, Matthew reached back into the fridge for the brussel sprouts, setting them down on the counter as he bent to retrieve a large frying pan from the cupboards at his feet. The meal was simple, promised to be flavorful, and was well thought out, but that was hardly surprising. Even when he was with Alfred, Ivan suspected that Matthew had been the main, if not the only cook. How much else had he done alone?

"I can set the table," Ivan offered, rising from his chair, but waiting for Matthew's response before he actually approached the cabinets.

Matthew looked up from his work, seeming startled but pleased. "Sure, that would be great. The plates and cups are in that cabinet there," Matthew indicated with a hasty gesture, before returning to his work of stirring the brussel sprouts. "The silverware is in the drawer just beneath."

Ivan moved to complete his task, and by the time he was finished, Matthew was just pulling the brussel sprouts off the heat. He watched Matthew turn to the fridge and lift out a large water pitcher before he crossed to the kitchen and gently took it from him.

Matthew smiled and murmured a soft, "Thank you," his face flushing with either embarrassment or pleasure. Ivan hoped it was the latter.

A short while later, all the food was prepared and on the table. It was, as Ivan had suspected, well made. After a few bites and a sip of water, he glanced up from his plate and said, "Thank you for the meal, Matvey. It is very good."

Matthew gave a little start, then a relived smile and replied, "You're welcome. I'm glad you like it." After a small pause Matthew added, "And thank you for going hiking with me today. It was a lot of fun."

"It was fun for me too," Ivan assured him. "Flying always makes me feel too cramped, and I get off the plane with too much energy from sitting still for so long."

"That's the exact opposite of me, then." Matthew observed. "I always feel hot and cold at the same time, and just exhausted. I wanted to make sure you had enough time to rest if you needed it."

"What else did you have planned, Matvey?" Ivan asked with a wry smile. It was amusing how excited Matthew seemed for a simple visit.

"O-oh, well I had a few ideas, but nothing definite," Matthew explained. "I didn't want you to feel obligated to hold to a certain schedule. I thought that once you were rested we could review our options and go from there."

Ivan nodded. "Sounds good. What were you thinking?"

"Well..." Mathew rested his chin on one hand for a moment, his fork pointing diagonally towards the ceiling. "It's a little bit out of our way, but there's the Montreal Botanical Garden. It's a bit late in the year for some of the outside gardens, but they have some more robust seasonal plants, 10 greenhouses, and a Chinese lantern garden that's very nice."

Ivan's smile softened. "That sounds wonderful." He was a sucker for gardens, and warm places; the greenhouses would offer both.

"And there's Rideau Canal. It's way too early of ice-skating, obviously, but we could probably go canoeing and walk some of the surrounding trails," Matthew continued. "There are some beautiful falls where the Rideau river meets the Ottawa River. There are several museums nearby, of course, if you're interested. I like visiting the Notre-Dame Cathedral Basilica, the architecture is stunning. Oh, and if you like gardens we're also close to the Dominion Arboretum, it has over 10,000 different types of plants."

Ivan chuckled softly, breaking Matthew out of his little ramble. "I thought our little run earlier would have taken more of your energy."

"Well, I'm proud of what my people have to offer," Matthew replied, with a somewhat sheepish smile.

"Da," Ivan agreed, "They all sound like good ideas. Let's start with the botanical gardens tomorrow and decide what do to next at the end of each day."

"That works for me," Matthew agreed, cheerfully taking a bite of his salmon.

"Thank you for putting so much thought into my visit," Ivan murmured, touched at the effort that Matthew had exerted on his behalf. No one had done that for him in a very long time.

"You're welcome," Matthew replied with a soft smile. "Thank you for taking time out of your schedule to visit me." They held each other's gaze for a long moment, until Kumajiro pushed his nose under Matthew's elbow and something squeaked loudly.

Matthew blinked and turned to look at Kumajiro, who was looking at him pleadingly, while holding a large rubber ball in his mouth. "You want to play, Kuma?" Matthew asked, ruffling the fur under Kumajiro's ear again, and Kumajiro leaned roughly into his hand, nudging the table a few inches to the left.

"He should wait until you are done eating," Ivan observed. His own plate was empty by now, but Matthew had been too busy talking to eat much.

"Oh, it's fine," Matthew assured him. "I don't really eat much in one go. You remember how much of the salad was left over when we shared dinner at the autumn conference?"

"I remember the brownie was gone before the salad," Ivan remarked, the hint of a smile belying the harshness of his tone.

Matthew, undeterred, stuck his tongue out at Ivan for a moment before speaking again. "I usually pick at my meals over a few hours. I was about to get up and clear the dishes away, actually."

"In that case, I will play with him," Ivan declared, pushing back from the table and standing.

Matthew stood also and Kumajiro hopped around excitedly between them. "Are you sure?"

Ivan glanced down at Kumajiro and nodded. "Da. It will be fun."

"I'd warn you to be careful, he plays rough, but I think you can take it." Matthew and Ivan shared another small smile. "Although you might want to play outside, for the sake of the furniture."

Ivan nodded, then leaned down and plucked the ball from Kumajiro's mouth as though the polar bear had barely had a grip on it, and raced towards the sliding glass door. Kumajiro followed him in a flurry of paws and excitement. Ivan ripped open the door and dashed outside laughing manically, with Kumajiro hot on his heels.

Chuckling to himself, Matthew stepped up to the door, intending to close the screen to help keep the bugs out. Instead he paused on the threshold for a while, watching man and polar bear wrestle in the crisp fall leaves.


	14. Flurries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flurries can always be a sign of something more...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> This chapter is a fun one, I think, but I have to admit, I was making final edits right up until posting!
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, subscribed to, and/or bookmarked my story! I love to hear back from my readers; it really makes my day! ^_^ 
> 
> I hope everyone reading out there is safe and in good spirits; I know there have been strong natural disasters making the world a bit of a scary place to live lately. To anyone who is struggling, my thoughts are with you.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 14: Flurries

 

"Ivan, we've got a-oh, sorry." Ivan was standing in Matthew's cozy living room facing the fireplace. He'd turned slightly when Matthew started speaking, just enough for Matthew to see the phone he had pressed to his ear. Matthew quickly backpedaled out of the living room, turned around in the hallway, and made straight for his study. He still had to talk to Ivan, and urgently, but it could wait a few minutes.

It was strange. Ivan hadn't taken any calls since his trip had begun, at least not any that Matthew had seen. It was possible he'd been doing some light work late in the evenings after they returned from their sightseeing. Matthew hoped everything was alright, especially considering the news he had to share.

Matthew's eyes flitted to his computer and a sudden smile replaced his worried frown. He'd changed his background to a slideshow of the pictures they'd taken so far this week. Currently it was one of him an Ivan in the canoe they had used to explore Rideau Canal. A stranger had agreed to take it for them. Both Ivan and Matthew were grinning at the camera with sparkling water underneath them and swirling leaves falling all around them.

As Matthew watched, the picture changed to one he had taken of Ivan at the Montreal Botanical Garden. He was standing by some robust sunflowers, staring up at them with a serene smile. Mathew had reviewed every picture they'd taken thus far. While there weren't many pictures-Ivan and he both preferred to enjoy the scenery through their eyes and not the lens of a camera- this was definitely Matthew's favorite. Ivan looked at peace, an expression he rarely wore, but it suited him.

"Prosti Matvey, I-" Ivan halted in the doorway as his eyes fell on the computer screen. "When did you take that?

Matthew glanced at the computer, then back at Ivan. "At the botanical gardens. I was going over the pictures from this week last night and I set my background to cycle through them. Is everything okay?"

Ivan blinked and his puzzled gaze shifted back to Matthew. "Da, why do you ask?"

"I haven't seen you take a phone call all week," Matthew said, gesturing to the phone that was still in Ivan's left hand. "I hope it was nothing serious." Unfortunately, life as a personified nation meant that something serious could come up at any moment.

Ivan glanced down at the phone in his hand, shook his head, and returned it to the pocket of his coat. "I was just arranging a small delivery," he explained.

Matthew nodded, and refrained from asking anymore. If Ivan had to arrange the delivery himself, it must be an important one, and thus none of Matthew's concern.

"What did you want to tell me?" Ivan asked.

Matthew started and glanced at his own phone, then back to Ivan. "I just received a weather alert. There's an unexpected storm moving our way. It's supposed to drop two feet of snow. I know we were supposed to explore more of the local trails today, but if it's as bad as they say it will be; I'll need to make a few preparations."

Ivan nodded and stepped forward. "Of course. How can I help?"

"Really?" Matthew asked, then frowned. "I'm sorry this is happening on the last full day of your visit."

Ivan made a dismissive gesture. "You can't control the weather. How can I help?"

"It would be great if you could refill the stack of firewood by the fireplace I have a large stack in the shed out back and a smaller well secured stack under a tarp on the porch. If you could use the stack in the shed to fill the one by the fireplace and on the porch that will help us heat the house if the power goes out. Also there's a kit of oil lamps and other things I usually keep in the house in the winter, just in case. They're also in the shed, clearly labeled. If you could take care of that, it will give me a good amount of time to run to the store for a few extra supplies and food."

Ivan nodded then hesitated. "More food? You have enough in your cellar to survive a siege."

"That's shelf stable food, Ivan," Matthew countered. "It won't hurt to have extra supplies of fresh, more perishable food. If the storm's bad enough to knock out the power I can keep food fresh out in the snow. It wouldn't be the first time."

Ivan nodded again. It would hardly be the first time for either of them. "I will get started on the wood."

Matthew smiled and stepped forward to grasp Ivan's shoulder and squeeze it. "Thank you."

Slightly startled, Ivan smiled back. "Pozhaluysta." They each moved down the hall, intent on their separate tasks.

Kumajiro sprung up from his mid morning nap by the sliding glass door, and moved excitedly around their feet for a moment until Matthew told him to follow Ivan. Kumajiro was usually calmer when he had a directive, even when there was a storm coming and nervous energy in the air.

Matthew shrugged into his coat and fingered the car keys in the pocket. "Thank you for your help, Ivan. I should be back soon."

Ivan nodded and stepped outside with Matthew. "If you are not back in an hour, I will come looking for you."

Matthew chuckled softly and waved to Ivan as he headed towards the car. As he was backing out he saw Ivan walking towards the house from the shed, his arms loaded down with neatly chopped logs.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Exactly forty-eight minutes later, Matthew pulled back into his driveway with a trunk full of fresh supplies. He'd purchased a few extra batteries, matches, lighters, and the usual winter weather and power outage supplies, even though he already had plenty. It never hurt to be prepared. Beyond that he'd purchased fresh bread, fruit, a few supplements to his current groceries, and one or two pastries.

Matthew scanned the yard as he pulled the bags out of his car, but he didn't see either Ivan or Kumajiro. As he got closer to the house, however, he saw the faint indentations of their foot and paw prints in the snow. While Matthew had been in the store it had begun to snow in earnest and already there were almost two inches of snow on the ground.

Matthew paused on the porch to shake the snow off of his shoes, and smiled when he saw what appeared to be a full stack of wood under a very well pinned down tarp. It shouldn't have been surprising that Ivan had done exactly what he'd agreed to do, and done it well, but Matthew had still been worried. "Too many years with Alfred," he breathed, shaking his head at himself. He'd become so used to holding up his end, and someone else's.

As he stepped inside Matthew noticed a small collection of supplies—batteries, candles, a lantern and flashlight—piled neatly on the stairs to his loft bedroom. A dull thudding sound drew Matthew's attention back to the living room, where he saw Ivan bent over the fireplace, stoking the coals with the poker.

Ivan must have heard him too, because he glanced over his shoulder and smiled in greeting. "Welcome home."

"Hello," Matthew replied. "Here I am, all safe and sound. No search party needed."

They shared a smile as Ivan hung the poker back in its place, then restored the guard in front of the fireplace proper. "Let me help you with those."

Again Matthew was surprised, and again he scolded himself for being so. Ivan had been a very considerate guest.

"I left a few supplies in every room," Ivan explained as he took some of the bags from Matthew, "so that they will be close by whenever they are needed, but I did not want to go into your bedroom without your permission."

"That's why you left the supplies on the stairs," Matthew mused, glancing back at said stairs as he followed Ivan into the kitchen. "Thank you."

"Pozhaluysta," Ivan replied, setting his share of the bags down on the counter so that he could begin putting them away. He paused when he lifted out a box of doughnuts and a box of croissants, and lifted a questioning gaze to Matthew. "These are the fresh supplies you wanted?"

"Among other things," Matthew assured him, setting a bunch of grapes into a bowl on the counter. "Don't complain or you won't get any."

Ivan smiled, shook his head, and unpacked the rest of the bags in silence. Matthew was slightly impressed with Ivan's attention to detail. He'd barely been here a week, and already knew where everything was located in Matthew's modest kitchen, despite the fact that Matthew had not allowed him to help cook any of their meals.

When they were done they both paused and stared out the window above the sink. "It's really coming down out there," Matthew mused.

Ivan turned his head to look at Matthew. "Want to go take a look at the lake?"

Matthew turned and beamed at him. "Definitely." It wasn't quiet the hike they'd had planned, but it was short enough to keep them safe, regardless of the weather, and it was definitely going to be beautiful.

Ivan and Matthew tightened their coats, and secured gloves and hats in place. Kumajiro, who had been watching the snow fall outside the large sliding glass doors, jumped up and followed them outside. While the snow was heavy, there was almost no wind, making for a relatively easy walk.

There was no race this time as they wound their way towards the lake, Kumajiro running and tumbling in the snow at their feet. The snow was somewhere between two and three inches deep as they crested the rise of the first hill and the lake came into view.

"If the lake were frozen we could go ice skating," Matthew observed, stepping off the trail and pausing at the edge of the lake. "It's almost a pity it's too early in the year."

Ivan, who had stayed beside Matthew, also paused at the edge of the lake. "This storm will keep going a few more hours at least."

Matthew nodded, still staring out over the lake. "It won't stay though. Tomorrow morning it should start warming up, and everything will melt. I don't think it'll impact your flight at all."

"That eager to get rid of me?" Ivan asked, turning to face Matthew.

"No," Matthew replied, his gaze locking with Ivan's. "Not in the slightest. I've had a lot of fun this week. It'd be nice if you could stay longer, but it wouldn't be right to keep you from your responsibilities."

Ivan smiled softly, then turned to look up at the falling snow. His serene expression was shattered a moment later when Kumajiro dove into a nearby snow pile and sent a shower of fresh snow cascading across Ivan's face.

Ivan sputtered and Matthew did his best not to laugh, hiding his mouth behind one hand. "You think this is funny, do you?" Ivan asked, wiping the snow from his face with a sour expression.

"No," Matthew protested, but his words were belied by the obvious laughter in his voice, and the tremor of barely contained chuckles. "Not funny at all."

A playful and wicked smile crept across Ivan's features, and Matthew started backing away in sudden apprehension. "Ivan, I mean it. It's not funny," he protested.

"I think you're _lying_ ," Ivan replied in a sing song voice as he bent and gathered the snow at his feet, working it into a ball.

"I'm not, I'm not!" Matthew protested, even as giggles finally burst forth; he was almost jogging now, trying to reach the cover of a nearby tree.

He wasn't quite fast enough.

Ivan's snowball struck Matthew directly between his shoulder blades, sending a spray of white powder up and over his shoulders. Matthew squealed indignantly and ducked behind the tree at last, already bending down to gather some snow of his own.

"Matvey?" Ivan called, his voice still playfully lilting. "Are you going to come out from there?"

"No!" Matthew insisted, crouching low with his own snowball held close to his chest. He could hear Ivan's footsteps approaching and he was certain Ivan was armed with more snow. Matthew did his best to count the steps, and watched the snow on the ground out of the corner of his eye, looking for any clues the hint of a shadow might provide…

"I don't think it's safe there," Ivan taunted once more. He was very close now.

Matthew's fingers twitched and he forced himself to draw a deep even breath. The instant he caught a glimpse of Ivan's long tan coat he lobbed his snowball out and around the tree, curving his throw. Matthew heard a satisfying "oof!" as he dashed out from behind the tree and raced for new cover, howling with laughter.

Somewhere behind him Ivan rumbled with a deeper, playfully menacing laughter. "You can run, Matvey, but I will find you!"

Matthew slid into cover under some bushes, gathering snow as he went. The bushes were at the base of an incline, and Matthew was able to continue sliding down a ways though the undergrowth before darting behind a prominent boulder that rested in the hillside. Matthew knew his tracks in the snow would be obvious to Ivan if he peered down through bushes and scanned the ground, which was why Matthew scooped up a small handful of rocks and tossed them at the surrounding trees. Muffled thuds echoed in the forest and then there was silence.

Matthew held his breath, furtively crafting snowballs, and waiting for some sign of Ivan. Did he think Matthew was still running? Had he seen Matthew take cover? Matthew strained his ears, his eyes drifting shut as he concentrated…

There was a brief rush of air before a small avalanche of snow cascaded down on Matthew's head. Matthew let out an indignant cry and rushed out from his hiding place, furiously shaking snow off him as he went.

Ivan's laughter rang out through the silent forest, and after Matthew had brushed the snow away from his face he glowered at him. "You are right, Matvey," Ivan murmured, whipping tears of laughter from his eyes. "This _is_ funny."

Matthew frowned and shoved his hands into his pockets, kicking the snow at his feet.

Ivan hopped down from the edge of the boulder and made his way over to Matthew. "Ah, ah," he chided. "Fair is fair."

"You're the one who started throwing snowballs," Matthew retorted, but there was no real venom in his words and Ivan's smile remained undiminished.

Ivan stepped up beside Matthew and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Da, and I am willing to stop now. Agreed?"

Matthew looked down at the ground and leaned against Ivan for a moment. Ivan took a deep breath and lifted his gaze back up to the woods around him, trying to locate Kumajiro. He had just decided that Kumajiro must still be up by the lake when a cold hard ball of snow exploded across of face and Matthew bolted away from him laughing. Ivan lifted a hand to wipe the snow from his face, and when he took off after Matthew, he was smiling.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Kumajiro shook himself vigorously, sending a spray of icy water in all directions. Thankfully Matthew was prepared for it, and had turned his back to Kumajiro as soon as he, Ivan, and the miniature polar bear had mounted the steps of the front porch. "Get it out of your system , Kuma," Matthew called over his shoulder, "You know you're not allowed to do that inside."

Kumajiro grumbled quietly, then resumed his vigorous shaking. Matthew turned back to Ivan and grinned at him. "That was so much fun." He and Ivan had played in the snow for _hours_ before finally agreeing to return home, change into dry clothes, and settle down in front of the fireplace with hot coca.

Ivan smiled and made a small noise of agreement in the back of his throat. "I am up for a rematch anytime. You are much better with snow than you are with chess, but you still lost."

Matthew chuckled, too tired to even feign indignation. "You're on."

"Cold."

Matthew and Ivan looked down at Kumajiro who had finished shaking the water out of his coat and had come to stand beside them.

Matthew shook his head and chuckled as he opened the front door. "You're a polar bear, you'll live."

Kumajiro huffed softly in indignation and trotted over to the fireplace, curling up into a neat ball by the hearth. There was no fire yet, Matthew wasn't about to leave one unattended when his home could heat itself, but he wasn't about to point that out to Kumajiro; there would be a fire soon enough.

Matthew shrugged off his coat and hung it on the rack by the door to dry alongside Ivan's. "Change of clothes first, then we start the fire and the hot coca."

Ivan nodded. "Agreed. I will start the fire."

"Sounds good," Matthew agreed. He leaned towards the stairs to his bedroom, and was about to start up them when Ivan, on his way to his own room, stretched his arms high above his head causing his shirt to ride up and expose four inches of pale skin. The skin was so pale, in fact, that Matthew had no trouble distinguishing the angry red lines splashed jaggedly across it.

"Ivan!" Matthew turned sharply away from the stairs and ran up to Ivan who had turned to face him, confused by the alarm in Matthew's voice.

"Your back!" Matthew cried, spinning Ivan around and jerking his shirt up before Ivan could protest. Matthew only had a glimpse, but it was enough to assure him that the angry red lines he had seen were scar tissue, not smears of blood from an unseen injury.

"I am fine," Ivan insisted, stiffly turning around to face Matthew again.

"Oh," Matthew breathed, his posture diminishing as he sank in on himself a little. All personified nations had their scars, for various reasons. Some were from injuries to their bodies, some were from injuries to their nations, reflections of the peculiar symbiosis between them and their people. Whatever caused the injury it was obviously deeply personal, and the last thing Matthew wanted to do, especially at that moment, was bring up bad memories. "I'm sorry. I thought you were hurt."

Ivan let out a breath and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. "I was, but it was long ago." He studied Matthew's expression for a moment before his own expression softened. "I'm fine, Matvey," he repeated, his voice warmer than a moment before. "The cold exacerbates the color difference, I did not think you would see, but you do not need to worry."

Matthew nodded. "Sorry."

"It's alright," Ivan replied, reached forward to pat Matthew's shoulder lightly. "We both know better than to stand around in wet clothes."

"Right," Matthew agreed, leaning back towards the stairs again. "See you in a bit?"

"Da."

Matthew had been concerned that Ivan would still be upset, but when he came back down the stairs four minutes later, Ivan was contentedly laying out the logs and kindling for their fire. Fifteen minutes after that, they were both seated on the sofa in front of a roaring fire, each drinking deeply from steaming mugs of hot coca.

Matthew downed the last of his hot coca and set his mug neatly on the sturdy coffee table before leaning back into his futon sofa with a contented sigh. His gaze naturally fell to Ivan at his side, who was still nursing the last of his hot coca. Matthew frowned slightly, fighting the wave of disappointment that welled up inside him. He didn't want Ivan to go home, and he felt stupid for it. It wasn't that Matthew hated living alone, he almost always had. Even during his marriage to Alfred true cohabitation just wasn't possible. But this last week had been so much _fun_ … He bit back a sigh. He couldn't be selfish and he shouldn't be ungrateful.

Ivan and he had the rest of this evening to themselves, and tomorrow morning as well; Ivan's flight didn't leave until tomorrow afternoon. All they could do now was make the most of it.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Matthew asked, shifting in the nest of blankets he had made for himself.

Ivan nodded slowly. "Da, a movie would be good."

Matthew smiled and reached for the remote, turning on the television above the fireplace and scanning the available movies. Ivan and he were both active people, and neither really watched much television, but at the moment Matthew certainly didn't have the energy for anything else.

He finally settled on a historical drama, and pressed play before settling down into his nest of blankets. It was a good story, even if the inaccuracies were easy to spot. Matthew leaned his head against the back of the sofa as he watched the movie, a lazy smile playing on his lips. He was so comfortable that he didn't want to move, which was a problem. Daylight was fading fast and he really should get up to make dinner after this movie was over… Matthew lifted his arms high above his head in a long stretch, and then dropped one hand to cover a massive yawn. Soon… he would have to get up soon…

 

~*~*~*~

 

" _I don't know what to do, little brother…Her face was tight and drawn, the knuckles of her right hand pressed against her lips as she stared pensively out the window. She was hurting, and Ivan could not stand it._

" _You must do what they say, Iryna. I will be fine."_

_Large tear-filled eyes turned his way. "But Vanya—"_

_Ivan stepped forward and grasped her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. She clung to the back of his coat so tightly she nearly ripped the seams._

" _It might not be forever…"_

_Her voice was watery and thin with tears, but Ivan heard her loud and clear._

" _ **Nothing**_ _is forever, Iryna." A painful but inescapable truth. He'd meant it to be reassuring, but all he could think of was that this would be the end for them. They might never see each other again. Despite the best of intentions and promises, decades apart could weather the strongest of affections; why should familial affection be any different?_

_They held each other for a long moment before Iryna took a steadying breath and eased back far enough to look up at Ivan's face. "Poka my ne vstretimsya snova."_

_Ivan leaned forward and kissed her forehead, holding her close one more time. She tore away from him suddenly and rushed for the door. Ivan did not try to stop her; if he did she might never leave._

_After an impossibly long moment he stepped forward towards the open door. He stared down at her footprints in the snow, hardening himself to this new reality before he shut the door._

_A splash of white caught his eye as he turned away, and he shifted his gaze to the pristine box sitting on the nearby table. Ah, yes. Iryna had only just arrived to spend his birthday with him when they received the call. She hadn't even had time to take off her coat, but she had left her present._

_Ivan picked up the box with trembling fingers and gently pulled the wrapping and lid away. Nestled inside amongst the frail tissue paper was a long white scarf. He didn't bother looking for a tag. He'd been watching his sister knit for_ _**years** _ _; he'd know her work anywhere._

_Without a word Ivan slipped the scarf over his neck and secured it in place. He'd have to take good care of it, this one last piece of his older sister. It might be the last thing she ever gave to him…_

Ivan jolted forward, his breath coming in short, sharp pants. A body pressed against his in the darkness and he settled his arms around it automatically.

"Shhhh….. s'okay…"

Ivan peered down at the shock of blond hair resting against his shoulder. This was _not_ Iryna, not his sister.

Sleep warm arms enfolded him, the fingers stroking over the fabric of his shirt in an effort to sooth. "s'okay…" Matthew breathed against him, shifted in his sleep and pressed further into Ivan's chest.

Matthew. Canada. Ivan blinked slowly as he sifted through his memories, separating dream from reality. Well, his dream _was_ a reality, but the events had long ago played themselves out.

Matthew's hand found his in the darkness and squeezed gently. Ivan looked down and studied Matthew closely. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deep and evenly. Was he still asleep? Ivan waited and watched for a few long moments before whispering, "Matvey?"

The edges of Matthew's lips quirked up in a smile and he mumbled something incoherently before letting out a long sigh that ended in a snore.

Ivan smiled despite himself and squeezed Matthew's hand back lightly. He waited for another few minutes without moving or speaking before gently extricating himself from Matthew's arms, and carefully laid Matthew down on the sofa they had both fallen asleep on. Their snowball fight must have been more tiring than they'd realized at the time.

Matthew mumbled softly once more, but didn't wake. Ivan gently reached forward and removed Matthew's glasses. He folded them neatly and set them on the coffee table so that they would be within arm's reach.

A cold wet nose pressed itself insistently into Ivan's elbow. He turned and found Kumajiro's soulful brown eyes staring at him intensely. "Food."

Ivan rolled his eyes and reached forward to ruffled the thick white fur on the top of Kumajiro's head. "Da, I will feed you," he murmured. "Just be quiet. Matvey is sleeping."

Kumajiro was obediently subdued, only licking his lips and following Ivan closely as he made his way into the kitchen.

Ivan peered at the illuminated display on the microwave. It was 3:45 in the morning. He turned and looked back at Kumajiro who seemed to be waiting patiently. "You must have been tired too, to wait this long to ask for dinner."

Kumajiro turned his head back towards the futon sofa in the living room. "He needs sleep."

" _Is hard to sleep in an empty house sometimes, yes?"_

Ivan's own words echoed back to him as he too looked towards where Matthew lay in the darkness. He'd known Matthew for many years, at least in passing. Over the last several months… well he wouldn't say that Matthew had changed, more that he'd come out of his shell, exactly as he'd planned to do.

" _I've always been shy. After… after I left Alfred I promised myself I'd try to get out more, to thrive..."_

A wet tongue assaulted his fingers, drawing Ivan's attention back to Kuma. "Get your bowl, Kuma," Ivan whispered, and the polar bear moved stealthily through the darkened room, returning moments later with his bowl held lightly between his teeth.

Ivan took the bowl from Kumajiro with a smile and a gentle pet before turning and opening the fridge, scanning the shelves for the meal Matthew had portioned out earlier.

Kumajiro pawed lightly at Ivan's leg. "All the food. Give me _all_ the food."

Kumajiro had spoken softly, but Ivan still turned and glared at Kumajiro until the bear looked mildly repentant and sat down with no further protest. Turning back to the fridge, Ivan spied the container he was looking for and lifted it out onto the counter. It was a quick job to empty the meat into the bowl, and the veggie pops, being green, were also easy to find and add in.

Ivan set the bowl on the floor for Kumajiro and turned to wash out the container that had been used to store the meat. As he set the freshly washed container in the drying rack by the sink, Ivan turned back towards the living room. His feet followed his eyes and soon he was standing beside Matthew once more.

Ivan regarded Matthew's sleeping face and the gentle glow cast over it by the embers of the dying fire. He was glad that Matthew seemed to be resting well. They hadn't exactly been racing around this past week, but Ivan knew that hosting a guest could be draining, no matter how welcome the guest was, and Matthew had done many things to make him welcome.

Ivan's hand reached out from his side unbidden, and halted in the air halfway between himself and Matthew. He hesitated for a few moments before adjusting his course and lifting the blankets on the sofa more fully around Matthew's shoulders. He also stooped to engage the mechanism that would allow the back of the futon sofa to lower into a bed. Matthew had pointed out this feature to him earlier in the week when a moments rest had turned into an impromptu nap.

Matthew stirred again in his sleep as the bed settled, but thankfully did not wake. The fingers of one hand, however, brushed and curled around Ivan's fingers, holding them there. Ivan didn't try to pull away. Neither Matthew or he had discussed Matthew's separation from Alfred in great detail—talking about difficult memories didn't erase them—but Ivan could see the way it still affected Matthew. On Ivan's first day here Matthew had moved quickly and efficiently around the kitchen, and always seemed flustered when Ivan offered to help, like it was the _last_ thing he expected. The guilty surprise, almost trepidation, which had flashed across Matthew's face when Ivan had taken the pitcher of water from him was all too familiar. Ivan had seen that same expression on Toris' face when he'd first tried to make amends with him…

His heart clenched at the reminder of his own sins, and he took a steadying breath. He couldn't change the past, but he'd be _damned_ if he didn't learn from it.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The next time Matthew opened his eyes it was bright… too bright to handle at first. Matthew blinked, groaned softly, and rolled over onto his side, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight.

"Good morning, Matvey."

Matthew squinted in the early morning light and, spying an all too familiar gleam, he reached out to the nearby coffee table, and retrieved his glasses. He stared at the ashes of last night's fire for a moment before rolling over and blinking at Ivan, his eyes still assaulted by the blinding light spilling in from the sliding glass doors. "Good morning," he murmured.

Ivan was standing in the kitchen in front of a steaming frying pan, a welcoming smile on his face. "I was just about to wake you."

Matthew stood and crept over to one of the tall stools on the other side of the kitchen's island. Ivan had _two_ pans on the range and was making bacon and pancakes! "Thank you, Ivan," Matthew murmured, smiling shyly at his guest. "You didn't have to make breakfast."

"I wanted to say thank you for hosting me for a week," Ivan explained, confidently flipping the pancakes in his pan. "And it looked like you needed the sleep."

"I must have," Matthew agreed, lifting his glasses to rub the sleep out of his eyes. It was still relatively early, but the sky was clear and the morning light filled the room with a soft, warm glow. Matthew sighed and half closed his eyes, enjoying the peaceful stillness of the morning. He wasn't usually a morning person, at all, but when he fell asleep in the early evening hours, allowances could be made.

He hadn't meant to sleep next to Ivan all night. Or had he? Perhaps Ivan had seen him fall asleep and simply removed his glasses, and tucked him in. Matthew wanted to ask, but he also didn't want to make it a big deal, so instead he asked, "Did you sleep well? Did you get any dinner? I'm sorry I didn't cook."

"No need to apologize," Ivan assured him. "I slept straight through until almost four. I didn't want to spoil my appetite for breakfast, so I helped myself to some of the pastries you bought yesterday." He flipped the bacon in the pan and adjusted the heat. Matthew watched him work, touched that Ivan would make breakfast for them on his last day here.

Something butted up against his leg. Matthew looked down and smiled at Kumajiro before reaching down to ruffle the fur behind his ears. "Hey big guy. Are you hungry?"

"Do not let him fool you," Ivan insisted, drawing Matthew's attention back to him. "I fed him a late dinner, and I fed him breakfast ten minutes ago."

"Traitor," Kumajiro spat, but there was no real venom in his words.

Matthew chuckled softly and patted Kumajiro on the head. "You know the rules, Kuma."

Kumajiro sighed dramatically and flopped to the floor at Matthew's feet in one large pile of melodramatic polar bear.

Matthew chuckled again and turned back towards Ivan, who was just portioning the bacon and pancakes onto two separate plates. Ivan lifted Matthew's plate and set it down in front of him, before setting his own plate just to Matthew's left. Then he lifted the pans and gently placed them into the sink to soak, careful to avoid the hissing and splattering of bacon fat and water as the pans settled into the sink.

"Thank you for making breakfast, and for feeding Kuma," Matthew murmured as Ivan took his seat beside him. He knew he was repeating himself, but he couldn't help it. This was an unexpected, but most welcome surprise.

Ivan glanced over at Matthew and smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkling in response to the movement. "You're welcome." They shared a smile for a moment before each turned to their respective plates.

"I hope it's not too busy for you when you get back home," Matthew murmured, cutting into his pancakes.

"Nyet, it will not be," Ivan assured him. "Everything is in order." Ivan paused to tear off and chew a section of bacon before he added, "And you? Do you have a pile of work waiting for you?"

Matthew shook his head while he chewed thoughtfully. When he swallowed he answered, "No. It was pretty easy to keep up on things in the evenings…" Matthew trailed off for a moment, reaching for the tea Ivan had also set out for him. It was black and sweetened with honey, just how he liked it. When he spoke next he did so while staring into the depths of his mug. "There were times in the past when it seemed like it didn't matter if I was there or not…" Alfred had mentioned this fact frequently when he wanted Matthew to play hooky with him, and the truth in it had always stung.

"Has that been the case recently?" Ivan asked, his shoulder brushing Matthew's arm as he spoke. "You resolved to be more outspoken, correct?"

"I did," Matthew agreed, "and no, it's been different lately."

Ivan nodded. "Then you just need to keep moving forward."

They shared another small smile before focusing again on their respective breakfast. Ivan was right. It was hard not to feel discouraged at times, but there had been a significant amount of change since the spring… It wasn't earth-shattering, but it didn't have to be. Matthew had made a point of putting himself out there and he'd succeeded. Ivan and he had a growing friendship, Matthew had more contact with his friends and family, and he felt more active in his work. He wasn't just sitting through meetings anymore, he was participating in them. He _was_ moving forward, and looking back would only slow him down.

"You almost had a white Halloween," Ivan observed, his eyes darting to the window over the sink.

Matthew followed Ivan's gaze with his own. The sun reflecting off the snow was blinding, doubly so because the snow was rapidly melting in the morning light, forming pools and rivulets. "It wouldn't be the first time, but this isn't likely to stick around more than a day or two at most." A fond smile filtered across Matthew's lips. "One year we had an early ice storm. None of the leaves had even fallen yet, and the next morning you could peel the leaves away from the ice coating them and the ice held perfect replicas of the leaf patterns."

Ivan watched Matthew's face with a fond smile. His relentless optimism was refreshing. He wasn't annoyingly upbeat, it was more that he tended to dwell on the positive and not ruminate over his disappointments.

When Matthew had first contacted him Ivan was worried that Matthew was speaking to him out of pity or had some other, more devious, motive. Once those initial suspicions had faded, Ivan became concerned that Matthew was making some desperate ploy to fill the gap Alfred had left in his life. While the dissolution of his marriage to Alfred may have precipitated some of Matthew's actions, his efforts were sincere. Ivan had seen the political system personified nations worked in corrode so many people, but somehow Matthew was still himself. It was almost a shame to break up their breakfast once they had finished eating, but time was marching relentlessly forward, and his belongings would hardly pack themselves.

Matthew insisted on doing the dishes while Ivan packed, and the rest of the morning progressed quickly. In the space of a few hours Matthew was standing beside Ivan at the trunk of his car, helping Ivan pull out his luggage. They both hesitated when the last bag had settled on the ground at Ivan's feet, the rest slung over his shoulders.

"Thank you for coming to visit," Matthew said at last, a shy smile playing on his lips.

"You're welcome," Ivan replied. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Are you sure you don't want any help with your luggage?" Matthew asked, for the third time that day. "I'd be happy to carry some of your bags to the check-in counter with you."

"I'll be fine," Ivan assured him with a friendly smile.

"Okay," Matthew replied, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Have a good flight."

Ivan nodded. "I will try to resist the urge to step out for a walk before we've landed."

Matthew chuckled. "Yeah, I don't think it would be good for your health."

"I've survived worse," Ivan replied, leaning down to pick up the remainder of his luggage. "Goodbye, Matvey."

"Goodbye." Matthew stayed and watched Ivan until he disappeared into the terminal, smiling and waving when Ivan turned and waved to him at the last moment. Then, with nothing left to do, and a line of irritated drivers waiting to drop off their travelers stacking up behind him, Matthew climbed back into his car and headed home.

The scenery on the drive home seemed flat and pale compared to its appearance on the drive to the airport. Instead of glittering with snow and fresh rivulets of water as the snow melted, everything seemed unpleasantly waterlogged and smeared with the dirty, mushy dregs of snow. Water pooled on the road and in the dips and ditches off the shoulder, but Matthew doubted there would be any flooding; the summer had been dry enough that the nearby rivers, lakes, and aquifers should be able to absorb this sudden influx.

Matthew didn't want to dwell on the silence of the car, so he turned on the radio and mentally reviewed the tasks waiting for him at home. There was nothing out of the ordinary. As always there was paperwork waiting for his review, and he should probably do some light cleaning in the guest room, if Ivan hadn't already beaten him to it. He was a considerate guest, and Matthew would only be mildly surprised if Ivan hadn't somehow managed to wash, fold, and store the linens and towels he'd been using this past week. Still, it wouldn't hurt to give the guest room a once over. Matthew decided he should also reply to the e-mails from Francis and Gilbert that he'd received this morning.

The road got a bit slushier as Matthew approached his house, but he was very experienced driving in snow, and it hardly slowed him at all. Matthew arrived at his house, parked, and trotted up the steps and back inside.

Kumajiro was, predictably, napping in the afternoon sunlight that still shone brightly through the sliding glass door.

Matthew smiled. Having Ivan come to visit had been a lot of fun but, houseguest or no houseguest, it was good to be home. Matthew turned towards the guest room, but stopped when his eyes landed on the futon sofa. It was still folded down into a bed with a nest of blankets Ivan and he had inadvertently shared the night before. In the rush of activity that had followed breakfast neither he nor Ivan had thought to lift the back of the futon into the sofa position.

Matthew turned back towards the living room and bent to adjust the futon. Once the locking mechanism clicked into place, Matthew straightened and folded the blankets neatly over the back of the sofa. He ran his hand over the fabric, smoothing it, with a wry smile on his face. He hadn't intended to share a bed with anyone anytime soon, but it had been innocent and unplanned, so he supposed he could let it be.

The rest of the house was in immaculate condition. Ivan actually _had_ straightened the guest room and left his clean and folded linens and towels in their appropriate places in the linen closet. There was very little for Matthew to do now except to reply to his e-mails and review some paperwork.

Matthew settled into his desk chair in his study and set some music playing in the background. The e-mails were quickly dispatched and the reviewing of paperwork began. It was simple work, but tedious. Matthew lost himself in revisions and notes so thoroughly that he didn't hear the knock on his door when it came. In fact, Kumajiro had to go as far as getting up from his nap, trotting down the hall, and nudging Matthew's elbow with his nose to get his attention. As soon as Kumajiro made contact, Matthew gave a little start and looked over at him.

"Someone's at the door," Kumajiro informed him.

 _Finally_ the knocking registered. "Oh, right. Thank you, Kuma." Matthew stood, stretched, and shuffled down the hall, calling out to the visitor as he went, "Sorry! I'll be right there!"

When Matthew pulled back the door he was face to face with a tall, thin man, in a crisp black uniform.

"Are you Matthew Williams?" The man asked, glancing at a clipboard he was holding.

"I am," Matthew replied, frowning slightly in confusion. "How can I help you?"

"I have a delivery for you," the man explained. "Please sign here." The man held out a clipboard and a pen, which Matthew reached for with slight reluctance. He hadn't ordered anything recently.

"Are you sure you have the right address?" Matthew asked.

"Yes, sir. It's right here." The man indicated the printed address on the deliver sheet near the top of the clipboard.

Matthew peered at the address, frowning. It _was_ his address… but why? Not wanting to delay the delivery man, Matthew scrawled a quick signature and returned the clipboard to him. Whatever the mistake was, he could sort it out later.

"Thank you, Mr. Williams," the delivery man said with a smile. "I've got your delivery right here." The man bent down and retrieved a large bouquet of red and white roses.

Matthew's eyes bulged as he accepted the heavy vase from the delivery man. Who….? Why….?

"I hope you have a good evening, sir," the delivery man said, nodding politely to Matthew as he re-adjusted his clipboard.

"T-thank you," Matthew murmured, glancing at the man distractedly, before shifting the weight of the vase so he could shut the door.

This _had_ to be a mistake.

Matthew walked the short distance to the kitchen and set the roses down on the counter, leaning back slightly to admire them. It was a truly impressive bouquet. Matthew lifted his hand and ran his fingers over the soft petals. A splash of off-white caught his eye and Matthew eased the roses back to reveal a small envelope that had been tucked into a plastic stand amongst the roses. He didn't really like the idea of opening other people's mail, but this might _finally_ shed some light on who these roses were really for.

Plucking the envelope from its holder, Matthew turned it over in his hands, and nearly dropped it when he saw the writing on the back.

_Matthew Williams._

That was _Ivan's_ handwriting… Haltingly, and with a good amount of doubtful suspicion, Matthew tore the envelope open and pulled out the letter inside. It read:

_Matthew,_

_I want to thank you for opening your home up to me this past week. It's been a long time since I've traveled for pleasure instead of for work, and you've convinced me that I should do more of it. You mentioned an interest in seeing my home and, if you are still interested, I would like to take you up on the offer. The winter world conference takes place two weeks before Christmas. Instead of returning to your home in Ottawa, I suggest that you consider spending a week with me first. Of course, we can make other arrangements if another time works better for you._

_Thank you, and I hope you'll consider my offer,_

_-Ivan_

_P.S. I hope the roses are an acceptable choice. I didn't know your preference, but I did see you lingering by the rose bushes at the Montreal Botanical Gardens._

Matthew leaned heavily on the kitchen counter as he read, more than a little surprised. He read the letter twice in quick succession before lifting his eyes back to the roses. They really were for _him_. A giddy smile spread over his lips and he trailed his fingers over the petals once more. The roses didn't have a very strong scent, but they had to be hot house grown, so that was expected. They were stunning.

Matthew glanced at the clock. Ivan wouldn't be landing for another four hours. As tempting as it was to wait and call him, Matthew almost immediately thought better of it. He turned and, despite his best attempts at restraint, rushed down the hall into his study. In moments he had a pen in his hand and was working on a reply.

_Dear Ivan,_

_Thank you so much for the roses! I was sure they'd gone to the wrong house when they arrived. Was this the delivery you were working on the other day? Regardless of how you did it, thank you. I would be happy to visit with you after the next world conference. I'm looking forward to it._

_I hope you had a good flight home,_

_Matthew_

Matthew leaned back in his chair and scanned the letter, chewing idly on the cap of his pen as he read. A thought occurred to him then, and he knew it was more than a bit forward, but his pen was moving again before he could think better of it.

_P.S. If you want, I could bring Kuma with me and stay for the holidays. If you don't have any other plans, that is._

Matthew scanned his letter, a bit uncertain. He contemplated rewriting the letter. He didn't want Ivan to feel pressured to say yes. Most people spent the holidays with their closest family and friends. Granted, Ivan was becoming a rather close friend, but he still didn't want to step on any toes. Then again he also didn't want to spend the holidays alone, nor did he really feel like intruding on Francis and Arthur. He knew they wouldn't view it as such, but still…

Matthew blew out a sharp breath and forced himself to fold up the letter and place it into an envelope. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

When he was done addressing the envelope, Matthew glanced up at the clock on the wall. He had just enough time to get to the post office before it closed. _Perfect._


	15. Frightening Allure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthew visits Ivan and their both dancing around the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, subscribed to, and/or bookmarked my story! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 15: Frightening Allure

 

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Gilbert and Matthew stood close together in a secluded corner of the hotel. The winter world conference had just ended. Matthew was technically on his way to pick up Kumajiro from Feliciano.

Matthew didn't usually bring Kumajiro to world conferences, because he got antsy being alone in the room for so long, but this time he'd made an exception. The world conference was in China this time and it wouldn't make any practical sense for Matthew to go back to Ottawa to get Kumajiro before joining Ivan in Russia. Matthew had been a bit nervous about bringing Kumajiro, but his friends had been more than willing to help him look after his polar bear. Because the meetings were staggered, there was almost always someone available to watch Kumajiro. For the meetings where they were all required to be there Kumajiro had been worn out enough to sleep peacefully, more or less, at Matthew's feet.

Feliciano, who had grown quite attached to Kumajiro, had asked to spend a little extra time with him while Matthew and the other's packed. Most of the personified nations would leave tomorrow, but Matthew and Ivan had a red eye to catch. Matthew had been more than happy to agree, because this would make the few minutes he needed to have a clandestine meeting with Gilbert all the less suspicious.

"I think I have to," Matthew replied, trying not to crinkle the envelope he held in his hand with nervous fingers. "I was already thinking about it, and when you mentioned his birthday was the 30th... well that decided it for me. This has gone on for far too long."

Gilbert reached forward and gently took the envelope from Matthew. It was his job to make sure it was mailed off properly. "There's no guarantee this will fix anything, Birdie."

Matthew gave him a lopsided smile. "Nothing important is ever easy. We deal with that every day."

Gilbert smiled back and nodded. "That we do." He turned the letter over in his hands reading the address before he looked back up at Matthew and clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Birdie."

Matthew pulled Gilbert into a brief hug and murmured a muffled, "Thank you," into his shoulder.

"Anytime you need me, I'll be there," Gilbert promised. "And you can tell Ivan that if he breaks your heart like Alfred did, I'll make him pay for it. I don't care how tough he thinks he is, they'll never find the body."

Matthew pulled back slightly, and looked up at Gilbert in confusion, his face flushing at the implication. "Gilbert, I'm not dating Ivan."

Gilbert just smiled at him conspiratorially. "I'll never tell. You have to move at your own pace, and I respect that."

Matthew shook his head. "No, really, Gill. I'm _not_ dating Ivan."

Gilbert still looked doubtful. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Matthew confirmed. "We're just friends."

Instead of nodding or apologizing for misunderstanding, Gilbert let out a long, loud sigh, and pulled Matthew close to him once more. "There's nothing wrong with being in love, Birdie. I've seen the way you look at him... Not everyone will hurt you like that bastard Alfred did. Don't be afraid to trust again."

"I'm not afraid," Matthew insisted his heart jumping in his chest. He had been thrilled when Ivan had accepted his idea that he stay through the holidays. It had taken a few phone calls to sort out all the details, but Matthew felt confident that this would be more enjoyable than the last few years had been for him. His "parents," Francis and Arthur, didn't have to worry about him being alone, and he got to spend time with someone who genuinely cared for him. It wasn't that Matthew believed Alfred hadn't cared for him, but, well... Ivan actually _showed_ that he cared.

Not that he was dating Ivan, though. Obviously not. Gilbert was seeing things.

Matthew pulled back slightly and looked up at Gilbert. "And Alfred's not a bastard." Gilbert frowned at him and Matthew pressed on. "I'm serious. That doesn't make what he did okay but.." Matthew sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You're one of my oldest friends, Gil, and I'm glad you've got a protective streak, really, but I don't want you to fight my battles for me. And I really don't like the idea of people ganging up on him. He actually seems like he's struggling with a lot right now."

Gilbert was still frowning dubiously. "If you say so, Birdie."

Matthew nodded. "I do. Now, I've got to get a move on or I'll miss my plane."

Gilbert grinned at him. "Wouldn't want that, would we." Before letting Matthew go he leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. "Have _fun_ , Birdie."

Matthew nodded. "You too, Gilbert. Happy Holidays."

"Happy Holidays," Gilbert replied, stepping back and waving to Matthew.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Matthew rubbed tiredly at his eyes and sighed. He knew the fatigue was going to catch up with him sometime. When he'd said goodbye to the others and met Ivan in the lobby, the excitement of their pending trip had given him a second wind. Now, after all the bags had been carried, checked in, Kumajiro settled at his feet, and the plane was four hours into its journey, he felt like a deflated balloon. He was still excited, still happy to have Ivan sitting beside him, but he was also exhausted... and cold.

Ivan shifted beside him and Matthew turned to see what he was doing. Ivan was squirming in his seat. The plane was a cramped space, and it probably felt doubly so for someone as tall and broad shouldered as Ivan. Even so, he managed, slowly and with difficulty, to remove his coat and reached over to wrap it around Matthew's shoulders.

Matthew flushed with pleasure at the gesture. "Thank you."

"Pozhaluysta," Ivan replied with a gentle smile. "You can sleep if you want to."

"I'd love to," Matthew grumbled, pulling Ivan's coat tighter around him. "I've never really been able to sleep in a plane. They don't really give you enough room anymore." Matthew glanced over at Ivan, who was nodding sympathetically, and offered a sheepish smile. "It has to be even worse for you."

Ivan shrugged, his broad shoulders brushing against Matthew's shoulders, illustrating Matthew's point about their cramped environment. He offered Matthew a tightlipped smile. "I manage."

Matthew sighed softly and stared out at the blank expanse of clouds beneath them. "I know we're going five hundred miles per hour, but it just feels like a crawl." And it did. The ride was smooth, which was good for safety, but it added to the illusion that they were barely moving.

Ivan hummed softly in thought, then said, "If you really want to go faster you could run down the aisle. It's cramped and not very long, but you might be able to make it up to five hundred and five miles an hour before the air marshal tackled you."

Matthew turned his head and shared a short, intense look with Ivan before they both dissolved into quiet laughter. "I would never!" Matthew insisted.

"I don't know," Ivan replied, a wicked grin spread across his face. "I bet I could convince you under the right circumstances."

"You'd have a better chance trying to convince Alfred," Matthew said, still holding back chuckles. "Sometimes it was all I could do to keep him from asking to use the intercom to put on his own personal radio show."

"Really?" Ivan asked, his eyebrows lifting and his smile twisting into a smirk.

Ivan and Alfred's rivalry was legendary. Even though they were no longer embroiled in the cold war, they would still both readily antagonize each other at the drop of a hat. It had never quite come to blows, but that might have been because Matthew had held Alfred back on more than one occasion.

"Don't," Matthew said, his voice softening in sudden seriousness. "I don't want you to use anything I say against him." Ivan tilted his head questioningly, but before he could speak, Matthew pressed on. "Things are bad enough between us, I don't want to start a personal or political war. I just want to move forward."

Ivan nodded solemnly, his hand slipping over Matthew's smaller one and intertwining their fingers. "I won't." Ivan promised. As much fun as it could be to rile Alfred up, he wouldn't want to cause actual pain, especially not to Matthew.

"Thank you." Matthew's voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

They shared a small soft look before Ivan leaned back in his seat. "If it helps, feel free to use my shoulder as a pillow.

Matthew blinked at him, taking a moment to adjust to the abrupt shift in topic, then he blushed slightly. "O-oh. Are you sure?"

Ivan nodded. "You're hardly a stranger, and it would be a poor start to the trip if I let you arrive sleep deprived."

"Thank you." Matthew smiled to himself and shifted closer to Ivan so that their sides pressed together. It took another few minutes before Matthew finally leaned his head on Ivan's shoulder, sighing softly as he did so.

Ivan glanced down at Mathew's mop of blond hair, watching as Matthew's breathing deepened and evened out. It wasn't long before Matthew was leaning heavily into Ivan and his fingers grew slack in their still joined hands.

Ivan watched Matthew sleep for a long time, forgetting his own irritation about their long journey. It took trust to fall asleep like that with someone, and this wasn't the first time Matthew had done so. Ivan felt a flush of pride that he had been at least part of the reason Matthew felt so at ease on this plane. It wasn't an earth stopping feat, but...it had been a long time since someone had trusted him that much, since he'd been able to make someone else relaxed and happy.

For too many years of his life Ivan had allowed his pain to consume him. His isolation and loneliness had driven him to draw Toris in and keep him close with a crushing intensity. It had only gotten worse when Ivan's "family" (i.e. the Baltic states, Ukraine, and Belarus) had left him. When Iryna and he had been forced to go, she had taken the last of Ivan's heart with her. He'd become a cruel, vengeful husk, embalmed with vodka...

Ivan had managed, eventually, to drag himself back from the pit of despair that had been his home for so long, but far too late to salvage even a friendship with Toris. Frankly, Ivan had been surprised that Toris had been willing to speak with him, much less to let him go free. Personal distance was all that Toris had asked for, and that stipulation was more generous than Ivan deserved.

Before he'd ever contacted Toris to attempt to apologize, Ivan had resigned himself to a quiet, cold, and lonely existence. He'd decided he was done fighting that reality; he'd only take down everyone around him if he continued. Ivan's determination had softened the beast he'd become, but it was _Matthew's_ offer of friendship that kept him connected with the world around him.

Ivan didn't think he really deserved friendship, but he was more than grateful. His fingers tightened slightly around Matthew's hand and, even in his sleep, Matthew squeezed back. Ivan focused on that connection and, giving in to his own protective urges, he kept watch over Matthew for the next several hours, smoothing his thumb back and forth over the back of Matthew's hand if he so much as frowned in his sleep.

 

~*~*~*~

 

It was the tilting of the plane as it began its final descent into Moscow that finally woke Matthew. He inhaled sharply and lifted his head from Ivan's shoulder, peering around at his surroundings blearily.

"We're almost there," Ivan murmured, and Matthew turned his head to blink at him.

"Good morning," Matthew murmured, his voice still husky with sleep.

Ivan smiled softly back at him. "Good morning, Matvey. Did you sleep well?"

Matthew nodded, his free hand lifting to his face to scrub the sleep from his eyes and shield his mouth for a giant yawn. "Surprisingly so," Matthew admitted. He moved to stretch his arms and stopped when he realized his left hand and Ivan's right hand were still intertwined.

"Prostite," Ivan murmured, disentangling their fingers.

Matthew smiled and lifted his hands above his head to stretch them. "I was about to say the same thing. It couldn't have been fun having me lean on you all that time."

"I did not mind," Ivan assured him, and then he gestured to Matthew's window. "You can see some of the city now."

Matthew turned and peered out the window amazed, as he almost always was in the last few minutes of a flight. It was a rare and unique perspective.

"What do you want to see while we're there?" Ivan asked. They'd discussed the possibilities for Matthew's visit but, just as with Ivan's visit, they weren't settled on the details. They both preferred a certain level of adaptability to their plana to account for weather and energy levels.

"I'd be interested in seeing parts of the Moscow Kremlin if that's possible," Matthew replied, glancing at Ivan then returning his gaze to his window. "And the Red Square and Saint Basil's Cathedral."

"All good choices," Ivan agreed, leaning close to Matthew so that he could both look over his shoulder out the window and speak to him more easily. "Anything else?"

Matthew turned slightly so he could look at Ivan. Their faces were very close together, so his reply was almost whispered. "Do you put up a Yolka in your home?"

Ivan smiled, pleased that Matthew had educated himself about some of his people's traditions, such as the New Year's Tree. "I do."

"Do you mind if I help you decorate it?" Matthew asked. "Unless it's already up, I mean."

"Nyet, I do not mind, and it is not up yet," Ivan confirmed. "Maybe that can be something we do in the first few days? We will both need a little time to recover from the winter world conference and the flight, but decorating the tree does not take much work."

Matthew nodded. "I'd like that, thank you. Is there anything in particular that you'd like to show me?"

"I would like to take you to a lake near my home. It's frozen through already, so we should be able to ice skate."

Matthew grinned. "Awesome! Do you have a pair of skates you could lend me?"

Ivan nodded. "Da, that won't be a problem. If the weather is clear enough we could also explore the Khimki Forest."

"I'd love to," Matthew agreed.

The plane jolted slightly as the wheels hit the runway and Matthew jumped in his seat, reflexively clutching Ivan's arms. The initial rush of gravity was brief and once it had passed Matthew removed his hands from Ivan's arms with a blush. "Sorry. Landings always seem to catch me off-guard."

"You don't need to apologize," Ivan assured him. "I'm not thrilled with flying either, no matter how convenient it makes our work."

"Are you going to run laps around the airport once we're out?" Matthew asked with a small grin, remembering Ivan's burst of energy the day he landed in Ottawa.

Ivan chuckled softly. "Tempting, but we have other plans."

Matthew waited impatiently as the plane docked and they slowly made their way into the terminal alongside the other passengers, Kumajiro trotting close behind him. It wasn't until they began to make their way down to baggage claim that Matthew realized he was still wearing Ivan's coat. He reached down and pulled up the hems, which had been trailing on the floor.

"Ivan, wait," Matthew quickened his steps to catch up to Ivan, who had been walking slightly in front of him.

Ivan slowed and turned to look at Matthew. "Da?"

"Don't you want your coat back?" Matthew asked, moving to shrug the coat off his shoulders. He stopped when Ivan's hand rested on his arm, halting the progression of the fabric.

"I am fine without it, Matvey." Ivan assured him. "Unless you're too warm now?"

"I'm good," Matthew assured him. "They always turn off the air in the plane after it stops moving and it takes so long for everyone to get off that it gets stuffy. Plus I have my own jacket on underneath."

Ivan nodded his assent and took the coat from Matthew, shrugging back into it.

They reached the area of baggage claim designated for their flight, and Matthew began working his way in into the crowd ringed around the luggage carousel. He stopped when he realized Ivan was no longer beside him and looked back.

Ivan was waiting a few paces back, his hand lifted to catch Matthew's attention. "Do you mind grabbing our bags for us?" he asked. "I need to run a quick errand."

"Sure," Matthew agreed, even as he frowned in confusion. He couldn't imagine what Ivan had to do in the airport… Maybe he was going to grab some sort of luggage trolley? Shrugging to himself, Matthew turned back around and focused on the task at hand. It took a while; the luggage always seemed to be jumbled up, even if groups of bags had been checked in together. When he pulled the last of his and Ivan's bags off the carousel, he heard Ivan's voice behind him.

"Spasibo, Matvey."

Matthew smiled and turned. "You're welcome, Ivan. Ho-" Matthew had meant to ask Ivan how his errand had gone, but faltered when Ivan stepped close to him and held out a cup of coffee and what appeared to be a blueberry muffin.

"I thought you might be hungry, after the flight," Ivan explained.

"Oh." Matthew looked up from the proffered breakfast until he met Ivan's eyes. "Thank you." Ivan slipped the food into his hands before Matthew could say anything else, then he moved to start picking up their luggage.

Matthew turned away for a moment, willing away the flush of pleasure that he knew must cover his cheeks. It was probably stupid to be so touched over a simple gesture, but he couldn't help himself. "What about you?" Matthew asked, turning around and watching in surprise and some amazement as Ivan adjusted straps and handles, carefully layering their luggage over his shoulders, on his back, and in his arms.

"I'll be fine," Ivan assured him. "I'll eat when we get to my place."

Matthew's eyes narrowed. "And the bags?"

"I've got them," Ivan insisted.

Matthew's eyes narrowed further. "I'll let the bags go, but you _are_ sharing this muffin with me."

Ivan turned, having lifted the last bag. "I'd like to see you try."

They shared an intense look that became fleeting smile before they both turned and made their way outside. Ivan quickly secured a cab and began loading their bags into it while Matthew sipped gratefully at his coffee.

"Ready?" Ivan asked, turning around to face Matthew once the last bag was situated in the cab.

Matthew nodded and slipped into the backseat of the car with Kumajiro, scooting over to allow room for Ivan to follow in after him. Matthew fastened his seatbelt then turned to Ivan, just as he was affixing his own seatbelt.

"Ivan?"

Ivan turned his head, mouth open to ask what Matthew wanted, when a mouthful of sweet muffin was pressed between his lips. Matthew looked at him with a self-satisfied smirk as the taste of the muffin registered on Ivan's tongue.

"Thank you for breakfast." Matthew's words were far sweeter than his wicked expression, which remained un-phased when Ivan nipped Matthew's withdrawing fingertips in protest.

Ivan chewed the piece of muffin slowly, smirking despite himself. Once he had swallowed he replied, "You're welcome."

Matthew's smile turned sweet and he settled back into his seat, lifting the paper cup he still held to his lips and enjoying the last of his coffee. Ivan continued to study Matthew's profile for a moment, before forcing himself to look away and observe the streets they were quickly passing.

Their time in the car went more quickly than it should have, with Ivan and Matthew speaking in hushed tones in the backseat as Ivan described points of interest that they were passing by. Kumajiro, despite his lengthy nap on the plane, seemed content to sleep in the car as well, curled up at their feet.

Ivan's home near Moscow, like Matthew's near Ottawa was close to the trees, but it was not crowded by them. Rather they appeared to be neatly set back from his home either because of a natural clearing or careful landscaping. The house, or possibly it was a manor, stretched three stories from the ground and was grand in both its size and architecture. The combination of the smooth pale exterior, the steepled tower to the left, and the delicate gothic windows left an intimidating and formidable impression.

Snow crusted the driveway up to the elegant house, but the car progressed smoothly all the way to Ivan's front door. Matthew managed to snag a few of his own bags before Ivan chased him away and claimed the rest for himself. As soon as Kumajiro's paws were in the snow he ran off around the side of the house. Matthew let him go, knowing he probably needed to stretch his legs, not to mention relive himself.

By the time Ivan had paid the cabbie and opened the door, Kumajiro had completed his lap around the house and followed Matthew and Ivan inside. The inside of the house was as polished as the rest of it. The floors were polished marble with thick rugs laid over them. The furniture was both impressive and formal. A short hallway led away from the foyer. Kumajiro broke away from them and ran into a room with a large fireplace and a sofa pushed up close to it, just as Ivan began leading them up a sweeping staircase that carried them up to the second floor.

Matthew turned and called after him. "Kuma!"

"I do not mind if he explores," Ivan assured Matthew. Matthew hesitated at the edge of the stairs for a moment, before following after Ivan. Kumajiro could be very energetic, but he was usually well behaved inside.

On the second floor the floors shifted to polished wood, with more elegant furniture, paintings, and plush rugs decorating the hallway. After a short walk, Ivan paused at an ornate door to the right. He nudged the door open and set a few bags just inside the room.

Matthew caught a glimpse of a large four poster bed before Ivan gently ushered him a little further down the same hall and opened a door to the left. "This will be your room," Ivan explained as he stepped inside.

The room had dark gray walls, and a large sleigh bed in the far left corner from the door.

There was a low dresser to the right of the bed, and a door near the right corner of the opposite wall. Along the right hand wall was a window with the drapes pulled back, and to the right of that was a small desk with a lamp and plush high backed chair. Just to the right of the doorway to the room was a tall bookshelf lined with a varied selection of old tomes.

"There's an attached water closet back through that door," Ivan said, pointing to the door near the right corner of the opposite wall.

Matthew set down the bags he held and peeked inside the bathroom. It was small but modernized, with elegant tiling and a deep soaking tub abutting the window along the right wall. Matthew grinned and turned back to Ivan, who was just setting down the bags he had carried. "You're going to spoil me with that tub."

"That's the plan," Ivan agreed.

A loud, sharp meow sounded at the door, shortly followed by a sleek gray cat which jumped effortlessly onto the covers of Matthew's bed.

"You must be Blue," Matthew murmured, holding out his hand and allowing the feline to sniff and press his head against it. "When did you sneak in?"

"He has his ways," Ivan replied.

Blue turned his head and chirped once at Ivan, who nodded back. "Hello, Blue. I presume you want food?"

The cat chirped again, a request that was followed by an energetic second of , "Foood!" from Kumajiro. Blue and Kumajiro looked at each other. Blue hissed softly, and Kumajiro sniffed distastefully, then they returned their respective, plaintive gazes to Ivan.

"I'm going to feed these two, unpack, and settle in. Feel free to do the same. Use the tub; take a nap, whatever you like. If you need me and I'm not in my room, I'll be in the study, just down the stairs and to the right."

"Your room is the one just down the hall?" Matthew asked, his fingers trailing in Blue's soft fur. Blue had tilted his head under Matthew's hand and was purring appreciatively

Ivan nodded. "Da, that is the one."

"Good," Matthew replied. "This house is so big I might get lost if I had to go too far."

Ivan chuckled softly. "I can give you a proper tour whenever you'd like. I figured you'd probably want to rest for a day or two."

"Yeah, a rest sounds good," Matthew admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and looking over his small collection of bags.

"I'll leave you to it," Ivan said, backing out of the room with a small wave, with Blue and Kumajiro in tow.

Matthew made quick work of unpacking his belongings, and drew himself a bath. He was somewhat concerned he might fall asleep in the bath, and while he _was_ tired, he was also fidgeting with sudden energy, probably just excitement about his visit.

The window beside the bath wasn't etched or blocked in any way, and when he leaned back in the hot water, Matthew could understand why. The view of the surrounding forest was stunning. Matthew laid back in the bath and watched the snow slowly falling until the water turned cool.

Matthew changed into loose fitting pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. He considered crawling into bed for a nap, but ultimately decided against it. Instead he crept out into the hall. He paused and listened by Ivan's door. He couldn't hear anything so he continued down the stairs and into the first room on the right. It was the room Kumajiro had first darted into to explore, Ivan's study. Kumajiro had returned, and was curled up against the side of the sofa. Ivan was there too, leaning back on the sofa and reading a well-worn book, Blue resting contentedly on the arm of the sofa closest to Ivan.

Ivan looked up when Matthew entered and smiled in greeting. "I thought you would be sleeping."

Matthew shrugged. "I probably will be soon, but not yet." He moved around the sofa to sit next to Ivan. He curled into the corner of the sofa, tucking his feet under him and staring into the fire that Ivan had recently built.

They were both silent for a long while, just enjoying each other's company. When Ivan next looked over to Matthew he found him peering at his phone. He'd meant to ask if Matthew was comfortable, but instead he asked, "What are you doing?"

Matthew glanced and replied, "Reading, same as you."

Ivan shot him a sidelong glance and Matthew chuckled softly. "I've got my kindle app open." He turned his phone around so that Ivan could see, and Ivan frowned.

"It's not the same as reading with a book," Ivan protested.

Matthew nodded vigorously. "Agreed. I didn't even want to _have_ a kindle app for a long time, but I don't think you'd thank me for bringing a small library with me."

"You can help yourself to my library," Ivan offered.

"Thank you," Matthew replied. "I'd like that. After I finish this I'll take a look around."

"What is it?" Ivan asked, setting his own book in his lap for a moment, using his finger as a bookmark.

"I guess it's technically a ghost story, but there's romance plot thread too." Matthew tapped the screen a few times, moving to the summary that would appear on the back of a physical book and passed his phone to Ivan.

Ivan scanned the plot synopsis, then nodded and handed the phone back. "It sounds interesting. I'll see about getting a decent copy so I can read it for myself."

Matthew chuckled again and turned his attention back to his phone. "Let me know what you think."

Ivan turned his attention back to his own book with a smile. His focus did not waiver until, about an hour later, he felt Mathew's feet pressing lightly into his thigh. He looked over at his guest and found Matthew slumped against the arm of the sofa, phone cradled slightly against his chest, his eyes closed.

"Matvey?"

Silence. Matthew didn't stir so much as an eyelash in response to Ivan's murmur.

Ivan smiled softly, shook his head, and set his book down lightly on a long thin table behind the sofa. Then he reached forward and gently removed Matthew's glasses from his face, folding them and placing them down beside the book. Matthew sighed and shifted in his sleep but gave no other response.

"This is becoming a habit," Ivan observed in a quiet voice. He wasn't objecting though. It felt good to have Matthew here in his home, asleep beside him.

Ivan knew he was becoming attached, and it frightened him. Matthew looked completely at peace, resting against the cushions of the sofa… but there had been a time when Toris had looked at peace sleeping next to him. Ivan did not want to mistreat someone or use them to sooth his own loneliness ever again. It had taken years of painful self-exploration for Ivan to recognize his own flaws, work to address them, and even begin to _try_ to make amends. Ivan knew he was more balanced now, more considerate, and even tempered, but he knew his demons still haunted him. If he wasn't careful it would be all too easy to fall back into old habits.

Matthew's feet pressed against his thighs again and Ivan lifted them up onto his lap. He would have to be careful… but letting Matthew sleep wouldn't cause any harm.


	16. The Carol of the Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan opens up a bit more, and Matthew is along for the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> I know this update is a bit early, but I have off this week, and I figured, why not? I hope you are all having a wonderful week out there, and that you enjoy this latest update!
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, subscribed to, and/or bookmarked my story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3

Chapter 16: The Carol of the Bells

 

A cold, wet nose pressed insistently into Matthew's neck. He squirmed and murmured softly, seeking shelter in his soft cocoon of blankets.

"Fish."

Matthew cracked open one eye and was confronted with an uncomfortably close polar bear. Kumajiro was looking back at him with a serious expression.

"Fish," Kumajiro repeated.

Matthew turned his face into the pillow to hide the smile that bloomed on his face. Honestly Kumajiro asked for food with the same amount of gravity Matthew's politicians used when discussing the highest matters of state.

Kumajiro started pawing at Matthew's shoulder through the blankets. "Fiiiish!" His tone had taken on a more whining quality, showing Kumajirou's impatience.

Matthew dared to peek out from his soft cotton shelter. "You really can't wait?" he asked, his voice warbling with suppressed laughter.

Kumajiro sighed and flopped down onto the mattress beside Matthew dramatically, flailing his legs like a two year old having a tantrum. "Fiiiiiiiiiish!"

Matthew surrendered to his laughter at last, reaching forward to ruffle the soft fur of Kumajiro's belly. "Alright, alright you tyrant. Let's get you some fish." With the help of his part time housekeeper, Ivan had ensured that he had more than enough meat and bones to support Kumajiro's raw diet before their plane had landed. It was a good variety and included some nice Pike filets that Kumajiro was particularly fond of.

Kumajiro wriggled excitedly as Matthew sat and stretched before throwing the covers back and hopping out of bed. Normally Matthew was at least somewhat grumpy when Kumajiro woke him up for food, but not today. He'd slept deeply and well, no doubt thanks to all the running around Ivan and he had been doing the past several days.

Despite their initial plan to take things easy for the first few days of Matthew's visit, the clear cold weather had tempted them out into the woods and on other sightseeing excursions. They both knew that a winter storm could surprise them and prevent their plans if they waited, so they didn't. They'd seen the Red Square, the Kremlin, and Saint Basil's Cathedral, just as they'd talked about. Yesterday, Ivan had taken Matthew to see the nearby lake and some casual ice skating had turned into a speed race. They'd both been so focused on showing the other up that they'd ended up sprawled in a snow bank on the shore, laughing like idiots. Then, instead of relaxing like normal people would after a busy day, they'd both taken an evening stroll in the woods, revisiting some of the trails Ivan had shown Matthew on his second day here. Matthew had fallen into bed the previous night exhausted, but with a smile on his lips; this was the best trip he'd taken in a long time.

Matthew tugged on a robe to protect him from the early morning chill then followed an over excited Kumajiro down the winding stairs and through the short hall into the kitchen. Ivan was already there, fully dressed, standing over the stove. He appeared to be working on fried eggs and Syrniki.

"You look happy," Ivan commented with a smile, adjusting the pans in front of him.

Matthew nodded. "I am happy. This one might start a small revolution if I don't give him his beloved fish soon, though." Matthew pointed down at a slightly disgruntled Kumajiro.

Ivan nodded in understanding. "His food is right up front on the third shelf, all thawed and waiting for him."

"Thank you." Matthew reached out and squeezed Ivan's shoulder in greeting and thanks as he passed.

Matthew turned his head towards Kumajiro as he pulled the fridge door open in order to retrieve the meat. "Kuma, get your bowl." The polar bear rushed to comply and was thrusting the small plastic object energetically at Matthew before he even had the fridge door closed.

Once Kumajiro was happily gorging himself, Matthew turned back to Ivan. "Do you need any help?"

Ivan shook his head. "Nyet. Make yourself comfortable."

Matthew smiled and walked over to the sturdy wooden table pressed up against the kitchen windows. Ivan had already set the table and there was a steaming pot of tea waiting for both of them. Ivan was a habitually early riser and had insisted on making breakfast most of the mornings that Matthew had stayed with him, only reluctantly allowing Matthew to help with lunch and dinner. It made Matthew feel both spoiled and guilty. While he'd cooked for Ivan in Ottawa, many of their breakfasts had been gotten out, or had been simple pastries and fruit.

"Breakfast is ready," Ivan announced, shifting the food from the pans to two waiting plates, then carrying those plates with him to the table. Matthew gratefully accepted his plate from Ivan and, as soon as it was safely on the table, he reached for the teapot to pour first Ivan, then himself, a cup.

Matthew cut into his Syrniki and hummed happily as he bit into it. Once he had chewed and swallowed he lifted his mug of tea, blew on it softly to cool it, and took a long sip. "Thank you for breakfast, Ivan. You know you don't have to cook every morning, right?"

Ivan nodded. "You're welcome, Matvey. And I want you to enjoy your visit."

"I am," Matthew assured him. "Very much. You have to let me cook you breakfast on your birthday though."

Ivan's smile took on a hard edge. He'd never mentioned that his birthday was coming up. It wasn't a day he liked to draw attention to for reasons that had nothing to do with personal vanity. "Who told you?"

"Gilbert," Matthew replied, eye narrowing as he studied Ivan from across the table.

"Gilbert talks to much."

"Sometimes," Matthew agreed. "Why? Do you not want to celebrate it?"

Ivan's reply was immediate and emphatic. "No, I do not."

Ivan thought for a moment that Matthew would argue with him, but he only sighed softly, and reached across the table to grasp Ivan's hand and squeeze it. "That's a shame."

Matthew's gentle response was both unexpected and unnerving. Ivan shifted in his seat and turned to look out the window. "I thought we could pick out a tree today."

"I would love to," Matthew agreed, looking out of the window as well. Large ominous looking clouds had rolled in the night before, signaling an end to the fair weather they'd been enjoying. However, the only thing that fallen from them so far was a delicate snow, more picturesque than anything else.

In deference to Ivan's traditions, Matthew had suggested they wait until January 7th to celebrate Christmas, assuming Ivan wouldn't mind a small extension to Matthew's visit. Ivan had seemed surprised but pleased, and readily agreed to the idea. Matthew didn't regret his choice, but seeing as it was now the 24th of December, selecting and decorating a tree seemed like a perfect nod to his own traditions.

Once breakfast was finished Matthew set about clearing away and washing the dishes while Ivan busied himself gathering the supplies they would need. Matthew had just set the last dish in its proper place when Ivan poked his head back into the kitchen.

"Ready to go, Matvey?"

"Just let me get dressed for the snow," Matthew replied, smiling as he slipped out of the kitchen, passed Ivan, and made for the stairs.

A short while later, Matthew, Ivan, and Kumajiro were making their way into the woods by Ivan's home. Ivan had an axe and saw slung over one shoulder, Matthew dragged a sled and some rope behind him. Kumajiro ran and rolled in the fresh snow all around them.

"There is a good tree not far from here," Ivan explained. "It should fit perfectly in the study."

Matthew nodded. "That sounds like a good place for it."

Ivan led him along a trail they had walked before and after about fifteen minutes he stepped off the trail, into the woods proper. Matthew followed diligently behind him, keeping his eyes low to plot the best route for the sled through the trees.

"What do you think?"

Matthew paused and looked up, smiling when he found Ivan cozying up to a fat pine tree a little taller than he was. "I think you need to get busy with that axe."

Ivan nodded and quickly bent to his task. Mathew stayed back a safe distance, and made sure that Kumajiro did the same. Matthew had intended to offer to switch with Ivan at some point, but the tree tilted and fell faster than he had anticipated. By the time Matthew approached the base, Ivan had severed the tree completely from the stump. They bent together and as one dragged the tree onto the waiting sled, tying it securely in place. They said very little, but still managed to work in tandem. Once the tree was secured, they both moved to the front of the sled and worked together to pull it across the uneven forest floor.

At Ivan's doorstep they undid the ties binding the tree in place, and each lifted one end of the tree. It was awkward work maneuvering the large pine through the narrow halls of Ivan's home, but they managed to drag it into the study and Matthew lifted it while Ivan secured it in an old base that he hadn't used for many years.

"That should do it," Ivan murmured, lifting himself to his feet and dusting the pine needles off himself. "I'll bring the decorations down from storage if you'll sweep up the mess we tracked in."

Matthew nodded. "On it." He snatched the broom from the closet in the hall and swept the loose pine needles into neat piles with minimal interference from Kumajiro, who was sniffing interestedly around the tree.

Ivan was just coming down the stairs, balancing one box in each arm, as Matthew was putting the broom back in its rightful place. Matthew stepped forward to meet Ivan and eased one of the boxes out of his arms. "Let me help you."

"Spasibo," Ivan murmured, adjusting his grip on the box he still held.

"Pozhaluysta. Are there more boxes to bring down?" Matthew asked, stepping into the study and setting his box down on the floor near the tree.

"Da, there are four more," Ivan agreed. "They are in the attic level."

It was a tiring process, moving the boxes down all those stairs. When they were finished, both Matthew and Ivan leaned against the wall and caught their breath. The boxes looked old to Matthew, but that was hardly a surprise. Personified countries, but nature of who they were, ended up collecting antiques. What surprised Matthew was the thick layer of dust that surrounded the boxes. Granted the attic was dusty, but Matthew suspected these boxes hadn't been taken out in a long time. He glanced over at Ivan who was also studying the boxes, his expression carefully neutral, his arms crossed over his chest.

Without thinking about it, Matthew reached forward and squeezed Ivan's arm lightly. Ivan looked over at Matthew, and Matthew hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, "Ready?"

Ivan searched Matthew's face for a moment before nodding. "Da." He pushed off the wall and stretched. "This will go faster if we organize."

Again they worked in silent tandem, opening boxes and adjusting the containers inside so that different groups of ornaments would be easily accessible as needed. They started with the lights, naturally. Ivan carefully threaded a long string of lights through the branches while Matthew fed him the slack, following him around the tree to ensure there would be no tangles. Once the lights were situated, including a bright red star at the top of the tree, they each went to different boxes and began to hang the ornaments.

Ivan seemed to be following a strict pattern, while Matthew continually varied both the types of ornaments he hung as well as the location. Matthew made a point to hang some ornaments deep inside the tree so that the light would reflect off them, and give the tree depth. Sometimes Matthew stood beside Ivan, sometimes he crouched, and sometimes he would lean on his tiptoes, stretching around the tree at an awkward angle to find just the right branch for the ornament he held. Occasionally Ivan and he would brush up against each other, or catch each other's gaze on opposite sides of the tree and smile. It was very peaceful.

It had been a long time since Matthew had enjoyed the holiday season so much. He'd often tried to get Alfred engaged in fun seasonal activities like carving pumpkins or turnips, snowball fights, and tree decorating. While they'd had their moments together, Alfred had often seemed too busy, or not really engaged. It didn't matter though, it was in the past. He needed to stay focused on the now. Now, he was happy, and Matthew intended to enjoy every moment.

"What is it called?"

Matthew started, and leaned around the tree to peer at Ivan. "Pardon?"

"That song you were humming just now, what is it called?"

Matthew frowned. "I was humming?"

Ivan nodded and hummed a few notes back to him and Matthew flushed with embarrassment and realization. "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," he murmured.

"Yes, that's the one," Ivan replied. "It's been a long time since I've heard it."

Matthew shrugged and focused intently on the ornament he was hanging. "I can't really say you've heard it. I don't sing very well."

"I disagree." Ivan's tone was light and cheerful as he reached up to hang an ornament on one of the taller branches. "You like Christmas carols?"

Matthew nodded and reached for his next ornament. "Very much. I was part of a caroling troupe, a long time ago. I'm not the best singer, but it was so much fun." Matthew watched at the other ornaments swayed gently in response to Ivan's movements, then hung his own ornament and watched them sway again. They were almost done.

It took a few moments for Ivan's voice to register, but when it did, Matthew realized _he_ was humming now. Matthew grinned and joined him. After a few lines they were singing together. Neither voice was perfect, but that didn't matter. By the time their song faded away they had both stepped back from the tree to admire their work, smiling unabashedly.

"It's beautiful," Matthew said, tilting his head as he took in their work of the morning. Beside him, Ivan nodded.

"Thank you for your help, Matvey."

Matthew turned and smiled at him. "You're welcome."

They glanced at each other, than back at the tree. A silence settled over them, but from Ivan's perspective, it was not a comfortable one. He'd been debating something with himself since Matthew had agreed to visit him, going back and forth and never quite settling on a decision. He did, _and_ he didn't want to.

Ivan shifted in place and Matthew turned to look back at him. Ivan hesitated a few more moments before forcing himself to speak. "If-If you would like, Matvey, there is a place not too far from here we could visit. It's an old building, a monastery. I think you would like the history. And the residents frequently practice old holiday songs and hymns. They're not generaly open to the public, but they know me."

"That sounds great, Ivan," Matthew replied. "I'd like that a lot."

Ivan nodded; masking the nervous cramping he could feel building in his stomach. Whatever reservations he still had, he'd chosen a course of action and he _would_ see it through. "Good. We just need to clear up these boxes, and then we can go."

Cleaning the boxes took considerably less time than taking them out of the attic, and once they had confirmed that Kumajiro was comfortably settled for a nap in Matthew's room, they bundled up in coats and hats and stepped outside. It was still snowing, but only lightly.

"Is it close enough to walk?" Matthew asked, pulling his scarf more tightly around him.

"Nyet, but I have a jeep." Ivan led him around the side of the house to a small roofed enclosure, not really a garage, but a safe elevated space to protect the vehicle from most foul weather. It was an old military style jeep with large all weather tires, and so far off the ground Matthew had to use his upper body strength to scramble inside.

Once they were both buckled in, Ivan started the engine and guided the jeep down the driveway and out onto the side road. They continued on small, side roads, eventually pulling off onto a gravel road. Ivan must have known the roads well because the snow soon covered any hint of them, and it was almost as though they were driving directly through the forest. Then again, the jeep was so sturdy they might be doing exactly that and Matthew would be none the wiser.

Tearing himself away from the scenery, Matthew turned to look at Ivan, his curiosity bubbling up. "When you said the monks know you, did you mean-"

"They know I am Russia, yes," Ivan replied, glancing briefly at Matthew then back at the 'road' ahead of them.

"How long have you known them?" Matthew asked, his voice softening slightly. Ivan had to trust these men a great deal to let them know who he was, just as Matthew trusted Margaret to watch Kumajiro when he was away.

Ivan was silent for so long that Matthew thought he wouldn't answer and began to turn his attention back to the trees, not wanting to pry. When Ivan did reply, Matthew just barely managed to avoid startling.

"I have known them for generations, but they didn't really know me until after Iryna and Toris leftâ€¦" Ivan paused again, and swallowed. "They helped me come to terms with what I had become, and work to better myself. I wrote Toris my apology letter while thereâ€¦"

Matthew reached across the space that divided them and rested his hand firmly on Ivan's knee. He didn't speak, there wasn't much he _could_ say. He knew how difficult Ivan's recovery had been, and he wanted Ivan to know he was there for him. After a moment, one of Ivan's hands strayed from the steering wheel and gripped Matthew's in a brief, gentle squeeze, before returning back to the wheel.

"Thank you for taking me to see them, Ivan," Matthew murmured, touched that Ivan would introduce him to such an intimate connection.

Ivan glanced at Matthew once more and replied, "Thank you for coming."

The monastery was so closely surrounded by trees that, when it appeared, it seemed to rise up from the snow itself. It was an old stone building and, as they approached it, Matthew could see a scattering of robed monks at work around it. Some were copping wood; others appeared to be carrying barrels, boxes, wood, or parcels from one location to another. Ivan deftly curved around a cluster of saplings and parked the jeep close along the outer wall of the monastery. Matthew and he barely had time to climb out of the jeep before an older monk was hurrying towards them.

"Ivan! Priyanto tenya videt'!" Ivan and the monk clasped each other firmly on the shoulders.

"Hello Andrei," Ivan replied. "It is good to see you as well."

Andrei nodded, smiling widely. "It is always good to see you Ivan, but try to call first next time. We _do_ have a telephone, and rushing about is getting harder and harder on these old bones."

Ivan chuckled and clapped the monk lightly on the back a few times. "Andrei, you don't need to rush to see me when I visit. My legs still work perfectly fine."

"And they will for some time to come, God willing," Andrei agreed, shaking both of Ivan's hands in his. "Now who is this you've brought with you?"

Ivan turned and beckoned Matthew closer. "This is my friend, Matthew Williams. He is visiting from Canada." Ivan took a breath, having struggled to force the correct pronunciation from his lips, "Matvey, this is Andrei Sokolov. He is in charge here."

"God is in charge here," Andrei objected, "I only supervise."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Matthew said, extending his hand to Andrei.

Andrei took Matthew's hand in both of his. "Welcome, Matthew. It is good to meet you too. It's been a long time since I've met any of Ivan's friends."

"I'm honored to be here," Matthew replied, "and you can call me Matvey, if it's easier." Andrei had fared slightly better than Ivan, but Matthew had seen the effort it took for Andrei to speak his name.

"I'll manage," Andrei assured him. "Come, come inside both of you." Andrei lead them both inside and through a series of hallways. Matthew was sure he'd never find his way in this monastery without practice. Finally Andrei led them into a large kitchen, where some of the monks were busy preparing food. Andrei seated Matthew and Ivan on a pair of stools, close to a long wooden table laden with food in mid preparation. Then he stepped away from them to a large pot of something steaming over a stove. Matthew was slightly concerned that they might be in the way, but the monks moved around them effortlessly, nodding and murmuring brief greetings as they continued their work. Andrei returned a moment later with three steaming cups of what turned out to be a mulled apple cider. After handing Matthew and Ivan their drinks, he seated himself on a third stool and took a long sip from his own cup.

"How have you been, Ivan?" Andrei asked. "Did your trip go well?"

Ivan nodded. "Da. As well as can be expected. Matvey agreed to visit with me afterwards, so we came back together."

Andrei turned to Matthew. "And what do you think of Ivan's home, Matthew?"

"It's beautiful, I love it here," Matthew replied smiling and glancing at Ivan. "Ivan's shown me around Moscow and the trails near his home. It'll be hard to go back to Ottawa when the time comes." Matthew shifted in his seat, tucking some hair behind his ear and draining the last of his cider, suddenly uncomfortable with his admission. It wasn't that he wasn't happy in his own home, of course he was; this trip had just been more fun than he'd had since Ivan's visit in the fall.

Andrei's gaze shifted back and forth between Ivan and Matthew a few times before he also shifted in his seat, leaning closer to Ivan. "You brought Matthew here to hear the bells, didn't you?"

Ivan nodded. "I did."

"The bells?" Matthew asked, looking back and forth between Ivan and Andrei.

Andrei grinned and stood, prompting both Matthew and Ivan to stand as well. "It's easier to show you than tell you. Give me your cups. I'll set them aside for washing and we can go to the courtyard."

Both Matthew and Ivan surrendered their empty cups and Andrei shuffled energetically to another part of the kitchen. In a moment he was back and leading them further into the maze of hallways and rooms that made up the monastery.

The lighting inside the monetary was dim, so when they stepped out into the courtyard the bright white of the snow was almost blinding. It was a large courtyard with a few dormant gardens visible. The walls of the monastery rose up around them on all four sides, and from here Matthew could see the four corners of the building held massive bell towers.

Andrei led them both to the center of the courtyard. "This will be the perfect spot," he announced looking around and nodding to himself. "Yes, wait here. I must go help the others. It is almost time."

Matthew watched Andrei turn and walk back the way they had come, all but biting his tongue to stifle the questions on his lips. Where they going to ring the bells to call people to mass? Ivan had said they practiced hymns and carols, but there wasn't any choir that Matthew could see.

Beside him, Ivan chuckled. "Just wait."

Matthew glanced at Ivan and nodded. He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath, trying to quell his growing curiosity. Instead he watched the snow, still falling, and marveled at the quiet stillness of the courtyard. Nothing moved, even he and Ivan were as motionless as statues, waitingâ€¦

Just when Matthew had become used to the silence, the bells started ringing.

At first the bells were very faint, but Matthew still heard them clearly. He tried to turn his head towards the noise, but found he couldn't. The sound was coming in from _all around_ him. It was the Carol of the Bells! Matthew looked to Ivan, but he stood with his eyes closed, a peaceful smile on his lips.

The music quickly built to a powerful crescendo, the effect magnified by the use of all four bell towers at once. Matthew could feel his heart pounding and goosebumps rising along his arms and spine in response. He spun slowly, taking in all the bell towers. It was impossible to see through their narrow windows so high up, but Matthew could picture the monks shifting and pulling the bells in perfect time.

While Ivan remained motionless, Matthew couldn't stop himself from moving, his gaze shifting from tower to tower as the music cascaded out around them. As the music swelled for the final time Matthew's gaze landed back on Ivan and he stopped turning. Ivan still hadn't moved, but his eyes were open now, and he was watching Matthew gaping at him with that same content smile on his lips.

The silence that followed the song was almost jarring, as if the music had created its own gravitational pull when it fell away.

"What did you think?" Ivan asked, stepping close to Matthew once more.

"That," Matthew breathed his eyes still wide with excitement, "was _amazing_! I've never heard anything like it!"

Ivan's smile widened. "I'm glad you liked it." He lifted his gaze from Matthew and scanned the bell towers that surrounded them, his smile turning poignant. When he spoke again his voice was barely above a whisper. "It reminds me of my sister." So many things did these days: Sunflowers, The Carol of the Bells, this time of year in general, and for years even the slightest reminder of Iryna had been too painful to bear. Ivan had spent so long lashing out at others, trying desperately and misguidedly to take the edge off his heartache, and all he had managed to accomplish was to heap more misery on the ever growing pile.

Matthew sobered and stepped towards Ivan. They were so close now that the fronts of their coats were brushing up against each other. He lifted his hands out of his coat pocket and grasped Ivan's arms, as his hands were also in his coat pockets. "It was written by one of her people, wasn't it?"

Ivan's gaze shifted to Matthew's expressive eyes and he felt his own smile shifting, casting off its melancholy. He still missed his sister, desperately. He always would, but for the first time since he closed his door on her fading footprints, he didn't feel like he had to miss her alone. Slowly he drew his hands from the confines of his coat and moved them to hold Matthew's. "Yes, it was."


	17. Noel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time coming... <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story! I love hearing back from my readers, it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 17: Noel

 

 

"I insist that you stay for dinner," Andrei said as he ushered Matthew and Ivan back inside the thick walls of the monastery.

Matthew and Ivan, who had been busy shaking the snow from their coats and boots, looked up at Andrei.

"Are you sure?" Matthew asked. "I don't want to impose." Matthew glanced towards Ivan, trying to gauge his reaction. He didn't want to leave just yet, but he didn't want to be a burden on the monk's hospitality either.

Andrei instantly waived off Matthew's remark. "Any friend of Ivan's is a friend of ours," he insisted. "And Ivan, it's been too long since you shared a meal with us."

"We would be happy to," Ivan replied, slipping his coat off of his shoulders. "But we insist on helping prepare the meal."

Andrei smiled at Ivan. "You drive a hard bargain, but I think we can work something out." He turned and started shuffling off down the hallway. "Come on, let's find a place for your coats and get you both into a pair of aprons."

Matthew and Ivan shared a brief look of amusement before following after Andrei. For all that the monastery had seemed imposing to Matthew, it was well organized. In less than three minutes their coats were safely stored in a closet and they stood side by side over a large sink, sleeves rolled up, peeling potatoes.

Matthew had been slightly worried about being separated from Ivan in the kitchen. While he knew very basic Russian, he wouldn't really say he could hold a conversation, and he wasn't sure if any of the other monks knew English or French. It turned out to be a fruitless worry, however. The majority of the monks spoke very good English, and Ivan was very attentive, never straying from Matthew's side, ready to translate at a moment's notice for those that needed it.

While the kitchen was full of bustling activity, it was also warm and inviting. Matthew and Ivan moved seamlessly from peeling and mashing potatoes to tossing salads, then chopping and sautéing vegetables. It was at least an hour's work, but the time passed quickly with lively conversation. Everyone was very welcoming, and often repeated to Matthew that Ivan had never brought anyone else to visit the monastery, which naturally made Matthew feel special. By taking him here he felt Ivan was trusting him with something very close to his heart...

A hand brushed gently over his own and Matthew looked up into Ivan's penetrating gaze.

"Are you alright, Matvey?" Ivan asked, leaning towards him and keeping his voice low. "You seemed lost in thought."

Matthew tried to will away the blush he could feel creeping up his neck, and failed miserably. "I'm fine," he assured Ivan in a quiet voice. "Sorry." Before Ivan's hand could retreat Matthew turned his hand palm up and grasped at Ivan's fingers. "Thank you, for bringing me here, for showing me this place."

A soft smile lit the corners of Ivan's face, and he squeezed Matthew's hand in return. "You're welcome."

Once the food was prepared and the table was set, Matthew and Ivan were seated just to the left of Andrei, who stood near the head of his table. A hush fell over everyone as Andrei stepped in front of his seat and surveyed the crowd. Heads bowed and hands folded in anticipation. Before he began, however, Andrei leaned forward and touched Ivan lightly on the shoulder. "Ivan, would be so kind as to translate for your friend while I say grace?"

"I would be happy to, Andrei," Ivan replied, glancing up briefly, before bowing his head and closing his eyes once more.

Matthew heard Andrei's voice fill the room, followed a moment later by the soft murmur of Ivan's voice in his ear. "Come, Lord God, our guest to be, and bless these gifts bestowed by thee. And bless our loved ones everywhere, and keep them in your loving care. Be present at our table, Lord! Be here and everywhere adored. Your mercies bless, and grant that we may be strengthened for thy service. Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name. And forget not all his benefits. Blessed be God, eternal king, for all his good gifts to us. Amen."

A soft answering "Amen" echoed Andrei's words, and then heads lifted and hands reached for the food they had worked to prepare. Matthew and Ivan shared a small glance and a smile before likewise reaching for food. The friendly atmosphere of the kitchen persevered in the dining hall as everyone put food on their plates, and passed the serving dishes to one another.

Matthew served himself some vegetables, before passing the bowl further down the table. When he turned back towards his plate he found Ivan spooning something that looked vaguely like a soup into a small bowl beside his plate. "What is that?"

"It is called Kissel," Ivan replied, turning to look at Matthew, holding out a spoonful of the reddish liquid. "Try some. It is sweet; I think you will like it."

"Okay." Matthew reached for the spoon, only to have Ivan inch the spoon towards Matthew's lips himself. Matthew glanced briefly at Ivan, before leaning forward and allowing Ivan to feed him the Kissel from his own spoon. When he pulled back Ivan and he were both smiling. Matthew swallowed and wiped his mouth self consciously before saying, "You're right, that is sweet."

Ivan smiled back at him. "Would you like some?"

"Yes please," Matthew agreed, watching with quiet amusement as Ivan reached for another small bowl and spooned out a portion for Matthew.

"I am glad you came here today with Ivan, Matthew," Andrei said, drawing Matthew's attention to the head of the table. "It is good to see him with a friend."

"Thank you," Matthew replied, flattered. He glanced briefly over at Ivan and added, "I think we're good for each other."

... _tell Ivan that if he breaks your heart like Alfred did, I'll make him pay for it._

Matthew flushed, immediately thought better of his words and added, "Ivan's been a good friend. He's helping me improve at chess recently. I almost beat him at the winter world conference."

Beside him Ivan snorted with suppressed laughter. "If by almost you mean not at all."

"I'm improving!" Matthew protested.

Ivan nodded with reluctant agreement. "Da, you are improving. I no longer need to correct how you move the pieces."

Matthew nudged Ivan good naturedly and Andrei chuckled softly. "It has been a long time since I have seen you so happy, Ivan. I am glad."

"It's been a good year," Ivan agreed, spearing the portion of meat he'd served himself with his fork and using his knife to cut off a reasonably sized piece.

The food and conversation were both excellent and all too soon, in Matthew's opinion, it was time to clear away the dishes. Ivan and he carried as many as they could manage into the kitchen. Ivan and Matthew stood side by side once more, washing dishes in one of the kitchen's large sinks while the monks moved around them washing other dishes at other sinks, storing clean ones, or putting away leftover food.

Ivan and Matthew worked in companionable silence for a while, washing and drying dishes in turn, their sides pressing against each other as they worked. When Matthew handed Ivan the penultimate dish from their stack to dry, Ivan was grinning at him.

"What?"

"You were humming again," Ivan explained.

"Oh, sorry," Matthew replied, his expression sheepish. "I do that when I'm happy."

Ivan's voice was soft and his expression fond as he said, "Don't be sorry."

When Matthew and Ivan turned to see where else in the kitchen they might be helpful they found everything, more or less, in order.

"Wow, you guys work quickly," Matthew observed, looking around the neatly organized kitchen.

"We do our best," one of the younger monks replied with a brief nod in Matthew's direction.

"Where is Andrei?" Ivan asked, also scanning the kitchen.

"He stepped outside with some of my brothers a few minutes ago," the young monk replied. "The snow's picked up a bit and they wanted to clear it from your jeep Mr. Braginski

Ivan nodded. "Thank you." Then he turned to Matthew. "We should go and meet him."

"Agreed." Matthew turned back to the young monk and offered him a quick smile. "Thank you for letting us visit today."

The young monk smiled back. "Thank you for coming, and for listening."

Matthew followed Ivan to the supply closet for their coats, then through the halls and back outside. Andrei was standing just beside Ivan's jeep, watching two younger monks wipe away as much snow as they could reach. He turned when he heard Matthew and Ivan approaching.

"It was wonderful seeing you today, Ivan, and meeting your friend Matthew," Andrei said, clasping Ivan by the shoulders, a gesture that Ivan reciprocated.

"Thank you for your hospitality Andrei," Ivan replied. "It is always good to see you. And thank you for clearing the snow from my jeep."

Andrei nodded, then turned to Matthew and clasped him on the shoulder as well. "Safe travels to you both. They say the storm will be bad tonight."

"We'll be careful," Mathew agreed. "I hope everyone here will be safe."

"This old monastery has weathered worse storms than this," Andrei assured him. "We'll survive many winters to come."

Ivan and Matthew climbed up into the jeep, waving their last goodbyes and well-wishes before they closed themselves in.

"Are you nervous?" Ivan asked as he secured his seatbelt in place.

"About the weather and the ride back?" Matthew asked. "Of course not; I trust you."

"Good." Ivan turned the key and the engine rumbled to life, scanning the ground ahead of them as the headlights illuminated the darkness.

The journey back to Ivan's house took almost twice as long as the journey to the monastery, the snow and ice really had accumulated. Even so the jeep and it's passengers remained undaunted, working their way through the curtains of snow in cheerful silence.

When Ivan finally made the turn into his driveway he peered over the steering wheel and frowned. "I think the power has gone out."

"Do we need to worry about the pipes?" Matthew asked, leaning forward to try to pick the house out of the swirling gloom.

"Nyet, I have protections. Candles and firewood are all ready. It will just be dark for a while."

Matthew nodded and gave Ivan a relived smile. "I can live with that."

Visibility was minimal, so Ivan approached the house slowly. Once the jeep was parked Ivan turned off the engine and they were plunged into real darkness. "Stay in your seat," Ivan suggested. "I will walk around, and we will walk into the house together."

Matthew thought Ivan was being a bit overcautious, but he offered no protest, especially when he heard the force of the wind outside. It was easier to lose someone in a snowstorm than most people thought. As soon as Ivan opened his door he climbed out beside him. The cold and the wind weren't off-putting; Matthew knew how to stay safe in a storm.

"Do you have a light?" Matthew asked peering up in the general direction he assumed Ivan's face to be. Ivan was standing close enough that Matthew could feel him beside him, but the darkness was so thick as to be oppressive

Matthew felt Ivan's hand make contact with his elbow and slide down the length of his arm until Ivan was holding his hand in a firm grip. Ivan pressed closer to Matthew and a moment later Matthew felt the hot streams of Ivan's breath on his ear. "This wind is so strong, all we would see is snow. I know the way."

Ivan stepped back and a rush of cold swirled in, stinging Matthew's nose and face as he breathed. Matthew followed the insistent tug of Ivan's hand, walking blindly in the swirling darkness, and shielding his face by pulling his coat and scarf up over it with his free hand. Ivan stayed close beside Matthew, guiding his footfalls so that he wouldn't stray off course or trip on the short run of steps up to Ivan's front door.

They pushed their way inside, and secured the door behind them. Matthew let out a soft sigh of relief as Ivan latched and bolted the door from muscle memory. The storm really had taken a terrible turn in the last hour. If Ivan's house hadn't been as sturdy as it was, situated back away from the trees, Matthew would have been worried about what the storm could do to it.

"It's dark in here."

Matthew startled at the unexpected voice at his feet, pushing back against Ivan unintentionally. "Jesus, Kuma, you just gave me a heart attack!"

The slight scraping of claws on the floor finally registered in Matthew's ears as Kumajiro pressed closer. "Feed me."

Matthew rolled his eyes in the darkness. "I _will_. Let us get some lights on first, huh?" Matthew turned his head to peer behind him in the darkness. Ivan's hands had griped his shoulders when he'd startled to help him keep his footing, and they were still holding him in place. "Sorry."

"Is not a problem," Ivan assured him, squeezing Matthew's shoulders lightly before finally releasing him.

Matthew dug his phone out of his pocket and engaged the flashlight feature. The small beam of light was strong and assaulted their unadjusted eyes, causing them to blink furiously for a few moments before they got their bearings. "I'm going to feed the bottomless pit over here," Matthew said, tilting his head to indicate Kumajiro, who was waiting, impatiently, at their feet.

Ivan nodded and pulled out his own phone. "I'll light some candles and get the fireplaces in the bedrooms lit. The pipes are protected, but the heat is still out."

"I'll meet you upstairs," Matthew replied, before turning and making his way down the cold, dark hallway, Kumajiro following impatiently behind him. The wind no longer bit at his cheeks as it had outside, but Matthew could still feel the chill air against his face and his hands when he removed his gloves to serve Kumajiro his food. At least they didn't have to worry about the food spoiling…

Matthew ruffled the fur along Kumajiro's back as he dug into his meal. "You're lucky you're a polar bear." Kumajiro didn't reply, so Matthew pressed on. "The storm's really bad outside. I don't think it's safe to let you out tonight."

"I'm fine," Kumajiro murmured, licking his lips.

Matthew forced himself to be patient as Kumajiro finished his meal. Once Kumajiro was thoroughly fed, and had his fill from his water bowl, Matthew led him back down the hall and up the narrow stairs. It was a quick walk to his room, but when he got there, Matthew found it was still dark and every bit as cold as the rest of the house. Kumajiro, completely unconcerned with the temperature, hopped up onto the bed and made himself comfortable.

Leaning back out into the hallway, Matthew saw a faint glow creeping out from beneath Ivan's bedroom door, and decided to see what was keeping him. "I'll be right back," Matthew said to Kumajiro's curled up and probably already sleeping form, before turning back around and making his way down the hall.

Matthew had kicked off his boots in the entranceway to Ivan's home, so his sock covered feet were silent on the carpet. He hesitated for a moment outside Ivan's bedroom door, before knocking softly. Ivan's muffled voice sounded through the door almost instantly.

"Come in."

Matthew pushed the door open and stepped inside. The carpet in Ivan's room was considerably thicker than the area rug in the hallway, and Matthew almost lost his footing before he properly registered the difference. Ivan was by the fireplace, stoking the coals and adding more logs, the light of the fire shining on his features.

"Close the door, you will let the heat out."

"Oh, right." Ivan had spoken without looking up from his task, and Matthew hurriedly stepped further into the room and shut the door behind him. He hadn't been in Ivan's room before, he'd barely peeked inside it during all the time he'd been here; he'd been trying to respect Ivan's personal space. Now, he took a moment to really look around. The walls were pale with highlights of gold and yellow in the crown molding of the ceiling. There was a dark wooden dresser just to Matthew's left, also embellished with some delicate gold paint. There was an armoire in the left corner of wood matching the dresser. The four poster bed, the same dark wood as the rest of the furniture, was pushed with the headboard flush against the middle of the left wall, with wooden side tables bracketing it. Curtains were drawn over a window along the left wall, just behind the bed. A painting of a field of summer flowers hung on the far wall, just above an antique and well used desk that made Matthew smile. Another curtained window followed the desk, and then a door in the right corner of the room which, Matthew assumed, lead to Ivan's ensuite bathroom. Matthew's gaze slide briefly over Ivan's sturdy fireplace, a larger mirror of the one in his own room, before Ivan's violet gaze caught and held him.

"What do you think?" Ivan's eyes swept briefly over his room before returning to Matthew.

"It's very peaceful," Matthew replied with a soft smile. "It suits you." It really did. Ivan, for all the faults and flaws of his past, had a gentle heart.

Ivan chuckled softly. "I'm glad you think so." He bent down and restored the guard for the fireplace before dusting his hands off and stepping over to Matthew.

"I didn't see you in my room, and there wasn't a fire," Matthew explained, "So I thought you'd still be here."

Ivan nodded, coming to a halt just in front of Matthew. "I…I wanted to check something with you first."

"What?" Matthew asked, frowning slightly. Ivan's hesitation gave him pause. Had he gotten some sort of bad news?

"It's not too chilly in here, hopefully I can get it warm before too long, and I could get a fire going in your room also… but, the temperature is going to keep dropping outside. …You might be more comfortable if we shared a bed."

"O-oh." Matthew looked down at the carpet, hoping the firelight would disguise the blush he could feel spreading over his cheeks. He wasn't shy about sharing a bed, especially with close friends, but…

_There's nothing wrong with being in love, Birdie._

"Maybe we shouldn't…" Matthew felt Ivan stiffen in front of him, and lifted his gaze back to Ivan's chagrined and withdrawn expression.

"Of course," Ivan replied, his expression becoming carefully neutral. "I shouldn't have suggested it."

Ivan moved to step around Matthew, towards the door to the hall, and Matthew's arm shot out to stop him. "It's not that I'm not comfortable around you, Ivan, or that I don't trust you…" Matthew trailed off and Ivan turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. "I…I think it's myself I don't trust." Matthew's gaze fell back to the carpet.

"Matvey?"

Matthew frowned and wouldn't look up at Ivan.

_Not everyone will hurt you like that bastard Alfred did. Don't be afraid to trust again._

"I-I have strong feelings for you, Ivan." Matthew swallowed. "I think I might be falling for you."

Great. Just _perfect_. So much for all his noble goals of breaking out of his shell and forming new friendships. Despite all of Matthew's best intentions he'd developed feelings, _romantic feelings_ , for Ivan. It hadn't even been a year since he'd left Alfred. _What_ was he doing? God, he shouldn't have said anything. Ivan had his own complicated relationship with love, and now…

Ivan's voice sounded warm and soft in Matthew's ear. "Matvey."

Matthew looked up, almost startled. Ivan had stepped very close, one hand resting on Matthew's shoulder. Ivan's face inched closer to Matthew's, and when Matthew felt Ivan's breath on his lips, be closed his eyes.

Ivan's lips were gentle and hesitant against his own, asking for permission. Matthew leaned up into the kiss, his arms winding themselves around Ivan's neck, drawing him deeper into the kiss. Ivan's other hand hesitantly found Matthew's waist, then slid lower. Matthew gasped into the kiss when he felt Ivan's hand slide over his rear and squeeze.

Ivan pulled back just enough to murmur, "Will you come to bed, Matvey?"

They shared and intense, almost cross-eyed look, and Matthew nodded. "Da."

A smile flashed across Ivan's features before he tugged Matthew back towards the bed, kissing along his jaw, then down his neck, pulling the fabric of Matthew's coat and sweater aside. Matthew shrugged out of his coat, hesitating for a moment before Ivan reached around him, pulled the fabric from his hands, and let it drop to the floor.

Matthew pulled Ivan down for another kiss, and then his fingers reached for the buttons of Ivan's coat, undoing them and pushing the fabric off of Ivan's shoulder. Ivan pulled his arms free, then reached for Matthew again, lifting him up and onto the edge of the bed.

Matthew pulled back with a startled gasp and looked at Ivan. His cheeks were flushed, his lips parted and damp from their kiss. He fixed Matthew with a _hungry_ look. Matthew bit his own swollen lips for a moment, letting a slow smile curve over his features. He spread his legs and reached forward for Ivan, pulling him to stand between them.

Ivan met him in a kiss that was decidedly less gentle than their first few. His teeth grazed Matthew's lower lip, and Matthew thrust his tongue forward to meet Ivan's in a sensual tangle. Matthew felt Ivan's hands in his hair, and leaned into the touch, wrapping his legs around Ivan's waist, urging him closer. Ivan slipped his hand under Matthew's sweater and splayed it across Matthew's spine, feeling the warm soft skin respond to his touch.

Matthew lifted his hands and Ivan pushed the fabric of his sweater up and over Matthew's head, temporarily separating them. As his sweater fell to the floor, Matthew reached up and gently untangled Ivan's scarf from around his neck. Ivan gently took the scarf from Matthew, and set it reverently on the side table before turning his attention back to Matthew.

Ivan pressed close to Matthew, drawing him into a heated kiss. Matthew moaned softly as Ivan pushed him back into the covers. Ivan's hands slid over the skin of Matthew's chest and lower, palming him through the fabric of his trousers. Matthew pushed up against Ivan, his hands tugging at the fabric of Ivan's sweater, pulling it over his head. Ivan's hands were back again a moment later, tugging at the button and zipper of Matthew's trousers before grasping the fabric and hauling both trousers and boxers off over Matthew's slim hips.

"Ivan," Matthew breathed, pushing his hands back behind him to sit up as Ivan removed the last of his clothing. Ivan's lips claimed his in a bruising kiss and Matthew's hands slipped in front of him, tugging Ivan's belt free. They parted for a moment, each breathing quickly, as Matthew gripped Ivan's trousers and pulled, stripping all fabric away from waist to knees, letting gravity take care of the rest.

Ivan stepped out of his clothing and started to push Matthew down into the sheets again, when Matthew resisted. "I want you up here, on the bed with me."

"Move back," Ivan murmured, and Matthew complied, shifting onto the middle of the bed. Ivan followed after him, taking the space that Matthew surrendered, until he could lay his body down over Matthew's, pressing naked skin into naked skin. Ivan gasped softly and framed Matthew's face with his hands, pressing heated, open-mouthed kisses against his lips.

Matthew wrapped his arms around Ivan, pulling him close and hooking one leg over his hip. Ivan rocked against Matthew, and Matthew's hands tightened around him, a strangled moan escaping from Matthew's lips.

"What do you want, Matvey?"

Ivan's lips were so close to his that Matthew _felt_ the question more than he heard it. He gasped and arched as Ivan's hands slid over his chest, pausing to grip his hips possessively.

"So many things," Matthew breathed. Pressing his hands against Ivan's chest, then moving lower. Ivan grunted when Matthew took him in hand. Matthew smiled up at him, then leaned up for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. Ivan hummed contentedly into this kiss, rocking into Matthew's hand. Matthew's free hand snaked across Ivan's ribs and around his back, pulling him closer.

Matthew barely had time to register the scar tissue underneath his fingers before Ivan stiffened above him and pulled his hand away. "Don't touch my back."

"Okay. I'm sorry." Matthew's face was soft and sympathetic as he looked up at Ivan. He hadn't thought Ivan would be sensitive about his back, but now he felt the thought should have at least occurred to him.

Above him, Ivan frowned. "I don't- I don't bottom."

Matthew nodded. "And I'm not a big fan of pain."

Ivan's frown deepened. "Did I hurt you?"

Matthew shook his head. "No. This is just probably a conversation we should've had before." Gently, Matthew brought Ivan's hand to his face and kissed the palm. "Anything else I should know?"

"Nothing else so important," Ivan replied

"We'll save the details for later then," Matthew agreed, pulling Ivan's hands close and pressing a sucking, open-mouthed kiss into the sensitive skin of Ivan's wrist. Ivan watched in fascination, gasping softly when Matthew's tongue and teeth scraped against his veins.

Matthew opened his eyes and looked at Ivan, smiling slightly as his mouth moved further along the skin of Ivan's arm. Ivan turned Matthew's head with his hands and lowered himself to capture Matthew's lips again. Matthew threaded his fingers through Ivan's hair and leaned up into the kiss, moaning softly.

"Matvey," Ivan breathed, pulling back from the kiss a few moments later. His eyes remained locked on Matthew's half-lidded ones as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Matthew's chest, then another one, slowly working his way down. Matthew gasped and arched under each touch, each kiss, each swipe of Ivan's tongue or brush of his teeth.

Fuck… it had been too long… even longer since someone had touched him _properly_.

Matthew groaned and rocked into Ivan's hands as they slid over his hips and squeezed his backside. "Fuck, Ivan," he gasped, trailing a shaking hand across the skin of Ivan's cheek.

Ivan smirked up at him, taking his member in hand and pressing a warm wet kiss to the head. "We can do that, if you want to," Ivan murmured, his tone almost playful.

"Yes," Matthew huffed, his breath coming in quick pants. "Yes, please."

Keeping steady eye contact with Matthew, Ivan opened his mouth, and licked a broad, wet, stripe up Matthew's cock.

Matthew cried out at the sensation, his body arching off the mattress and his arms flying up over his head, covering his face and eyes. Moments later Ivan's warm, large hands pulled Matthew's arms back down.

"Don't hide," Ivan murmured, bending to his task once more.

Matthew watched with dilated pupils as Ivan took him into his mouth, bobbing his head gently up and down. Matthew moaned long and loud as he watched, his hands scrabbling in the sheets until Ivan reached up and grasped them, interlocking their fingers in a tight grip. "Fuck, Ivan," Matthew gasped again, trembling with the effort of keeping his hips still.

Ivan hummed softly and Matthew cried out again, his hand clenching around Ivan's. "I-Ivan!"

Ivan pulled back slowly, the head of Matthew's cock escaping his lips with a soft 'pop'. "I have lube in the bedside table," Ivan murmured, his voice rough and deep with arousal.

Matthew reached his free hand up and over, arching his body towards the drawer of the bedside table Ivan had indicated. His body jerked and his fingers fumbled with the knob of the drawer as he felt Ivan's lips and tongue start to move over him again. "I-Ivan!"

Ivan bobbed his head up and down several more times before pulling back just enough to murmur, "Da?"

Matthew shivered at the sensation of Ivan's breath against him. "I'm-ah! I'm not going to be able to concentrate if you keep doing that."

Ivan chuckled softly and Matthew could feel the vibrations along his thighs. "I'm sure you'll manage."

Matthew panted, moaned, and fought his body for control as Ivan's lips slid over his cock once more. He managed, after a few near fumbles, to retrieve the bottle of lubricant and press it into Ivan's hands with shaking fingers. He didn't hear Ivan open the bottle, but he must have, because a moment or so later Matthew felt a wet finger nudge against his entrance, and he spread his legs with a soft cry of pleasure.

"Look at me," Ivan murmured, and Matthew's eyes snapped to his instantly, holding that connection as he felt Ivan's finger move inside him. Ivan was gentle and used plenty of lube, two facts for which Matthew was immensely grateful. It _had_ been a long time, and he was definitely feeling the stretch.

Matthew reached his arms out and down towards Ivan. "Come here."

Ivan slid up Matthew's body, moving his finger inside Matthew at the same time, swallowing Matthew's small cry with a kiss. Matthew gripped Ivan's shoulder with one hand, their other hands still being joined, and held him close.

"I'm right here," Ivan murmured when Matthew's grip on him tightened. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Right," Matthew breathed, "sorry." He spread his legs wider to allow more room for Ivan's body to nestle between them.

Ivan pressed his thumb gently against Matthew's perineum, causing him to moan and lift his hips upwards into Ivan's hand.

"That's better," Ivan murmured, pressing a quick kiss to Matthew's lips, then moving lower, down his neck. "Relax."

Matthew pressed the side of his face into the pillows, baring his neck to Ivan's questing mouth. He felt a second finger enter him, and pushed against it, welcoming the slight burn and stretch. Ivan's fingers twisted inside him, pushing against the tight wall of muscle. Matthew yelped, then moaned loudly when they brushed his prostate, clutching tightly at Ivan's shoulders.

Ivan hummed in satisfaction, the vibrations massaging Matthew's neck. Matthew gasped when he felt Ivan withdraw his fingers. "Just getting more lube," Ivan murmured, pressing slick fingers back into him a moment later.

Matthew rocked in earnest against the push and pull of Ivan's fingers, a slick heat building slowly in his lower abdomen. He could feel the trickle of precum dribbling onto his stomach as Ivan pushed a third finger inside him.

"I-Ivan," Matthew gasped. "I think I'm ready."

Ivan pressed a searing kiss into Matthew's lips, his fingers still working inside him. When he pulled back he murmured, "Just a bit longer."

Matthew's hands trailed low over Ivan's chest, slipping between their bodies to caress the heated skin of Ivan's cock. Ivan's whole body jerked at the touch, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin of Matthew's neck.

A smile tugged at the edges of Matthew's lips as he used his free hand to guide Ivan's face back to his own, holding him in a deep kiss. His tongue pushed insistently against Ivan's, caressing the slick muscle. Ivan pulled back from the kiss panting, and finally eased his fingers out of Matthew. He shifted, settled his weight on his knees and pushed Matthew's legs further apart.

"Wait," Matthew breathed, pressing lightly against Ivan's shoulder.

Ivan stilled and fixed his gaze on Matthew. "What is it? Did I hurt you?"

Matthew shook his head. "No. It's just… it's been a long time. Could we start with me riding you?" Matthew paused and licked his lips nervously. "It would give me a little more control, let me set the pace."

Tension drained from Ivan's shoulders and he nodded. "Da, of course." Ivan pressed a short, sweet kiss to Matthew's lips. When he pulled back and they shifted so that Ivan was sitting with his back against the headboard and Matthew climbed into his lap. Ivan's hands settled on Matthews hips. Matthew braced one hand on Ivan's shoulder as he reached behind himself with the other, spreading lubricant and lifting Ivan's cock to push against his entrance.

Matthew bit his lip and locked eyes with Ivan as he started to bear down. Ivan's fingers trembled against his skin, and Matthew's mouth fell open in a moan as he lowered himself until he was fully seated on Ivan's cock. Matthew leaned forward and drew Ivan into another sweet kiss, grinding his hips down as he did so. Ivan gasped against Matthew's lips when Matthew pulled up, then pressed himself back down.

The pace started out slow, each pushing and rubbing against each other, hands and mouths wandering. When Ivan's hand strayed down and grasped Matthew's leaking cock, smearing precum around the tip, Matthew jolted in his arms, pushing down hard against him, pulling up again just as quickly. Flesh slapped against flesh and Matthew's thighs burned with the effort of his movements.

Suddenly Ivan surged forward, pushing against him and sending them toppling back onto the sheets. Matthew landed on his back with a surprised cry that became a strangled moan as Ivan pushed back inside him. Ivan gripped Matthew's legs, spreading them wide as he pressed into him again and again. Matthew arched his body up off the bed, thrusting back against Ivan as his fingers tangled in the sheets beneath him.

Ivan slid his hand along the inside of Matthew's thigh, grasping Matthew's twitching member and stroking in time with his thrusts. Matthew's mouth was open in perpetual moans and cut off cries of pleasure as Ivan moved inside him. Ivan's thrusts quickly became sharper and more erratic before he fell forward with a cry, his teeth gripping the skin of Matthew's neck in a claiming love bite. Matthew felt Ivan pulse inside him, and found his own release moments later.

They lay against each other, panting and quietly caressing for several long minutes, before pressing together once more in a sloppy, tender kiss.

"I need to get a cloth to clean us with," Ivan murmured, pulling back with some reluctance.

Matthew knew he was right, and let Ivan ease out of him without protest, although his fingers lingered on Ivan's skin as long as they were able to. Matthew sighed softly, trying to calm his pounding heart. He stared up at the ceiling, watching the dancing light of the fire reflected in the smooth flat surface. He wasn't alone long. Ivan returned a moment later, pressing a warm wet cloth across Matthew's stomach and between his legs, clearing away the mess. When he pulled back he pressed a dry towel into Matthew's hands, which Matthew used to wipe away the excess water.

Ivan disappeared into the bathroom to rinse and store his cloth, then paused by the fire to stoke it and add more logs. When he turned back to the bed he found Matthew lying still, watching him. Smiling, Ivan leaned over Matthew, pressing several short, sweet kisses against his lips and cheeks, before brushing his lips against Matthew's ear and murmuring, "Get under the covers before you catch cold."

Matthew didn't need to be told twice. He peeled back the covers and scrambled underneath alongside Ivan. They settled close together, their legs intertwined, their bodies pressed against each other, and Ivan's arm draped over Matthew's waist. It was an embrace halfway between a spoon and laying side by side.

Matthew sighed and glanced over at Ivan who was staring at him sleepily. Matthew leaned over and pressed one last slow kiss against Ivan's lips. "Goodnight, Ivan."

Ivan lifted one hand and gently threaded his fingers through Matthew's hair. "Goodnight Matvey. Sleep well."

 

~*~*~*~

 

Alfred's head swam, and not in a good way. The room spun and lurched uncontrollably, and his stomach rebelled violently to the movement. When it was over he sagged into his mattress, pulling a spare pillow close to his chest for comfort and support.

Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong, only the details kept slipping away from him like leaves in the wind.

Alfred buried his face in the pillow and tried to slow his breathing, only to throw the pillow away violently a moment later. That pillow was _wrong_ … It was the wrong size, or shape, or…something.

Fuck…

There was something he was supposed to do, wasn't there? … Something important?

Alfred tried vainly to push himself up from the knot of sweat soaked sheets. His arms were trembling too much to support him, and the effort only made the room sway unsteadily around him.

Alfred curled in on himself, whimpering in abject misery. _Everything_ hurt, and he was dripping with sweat, but he was so thirsty… A flailing hand connected with cool glass and with a relieved shudder Alfred brought the bottle of sweet oblivion to his lips.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Matthew shifted under the blankets with a gentle sigh, stretching his sleep warmed muscles. Breath tickled against his forehead and he smiled, nestling closer to Ivan, who shifted as well, pressing a kiss into Matthew's hair.

"Dobroye utro, Matvey," Ivan murmured, his voice deep and gravely.

"Good morning, Ivan," Matthew replied, ducking his head to yawn deeply, then slowly blinking open his eyes. Pale morning light seeped in the room around the edges of the drapes. It might still be snowing, it was hard to tell, but Matthew couldn't hear the wind howling anymore. Ivan's eyes were already open, and he was looking at Matthew with a fond, sleepy expression.

"Did you sleep well?" Ivan asked, tracing his fingers from Matthew's temple down across his cheek.

"I did," Matthew breathed, sliding his own fingers across Ivan's chest and over to his hip. "And you?"

Ivan nodded. "Da. ...Better than I have in a long time."

Matthew's smile widened, then it diminished slightly and his bottom lip retreated between nervous teeth. This was the last thing he had expected to happen. He'd been so adamantly avoiding any thoughts of romance that he'd blinded himself to his growing affection for Ivan until he couldn't avoid it anymore. Then last night... well, last night things had escalated quickly.

"Last night," Matthew's voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper. "Was that a one-time thing? Because it's fine if it was but... I'd _really_ like it if it wasn't." Matthew forced himself to look up at Ivan. He didn't want to make this more than it was, didn't want to rush obsessively ahead; his experiences with Alfred had made him cautious if nothing else... but he also couldn't deny how comfortable he felt with Ivan, and despite his own trepidations...he _wanted_ to see where this went.

Ivan's palm slid over Matthew's cheek, caressing it, and his thumb rubbed softly over Matthew's lips. "I care about you, Matvey." Ivan leaned down and pressed a tender, chaste kiss to Matthew's lips, then pulled back and murmured. "I would like to keep seeing you."

Mathew smiled and pressed himself closer to Ivan. "Good." He felt a tightness in his chest give way, and relief sweep in to take its place. "That's- I wasn't planning this but, I'm really happy."

Ivan drew him closer, wrapping his arms tightly around Matthew and pulling him to his chest. When he spoke his voice was quiet and tremulous. "I am too."

"Feed me!"

Matthew and Ivan dissolved into helpless laughter as they listened to Kumajiro paw and push at the outside of Ivan's door.

"He probably needs to go out too," Matthew said between chuckles.

"It would be cruel to ignore him," Ivan agreed, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. He shifted, and pulled himself into a sitting position; Matthew sat up beside him. "The heat is back on," he declared. "I can feel it."

Matthew slowly pulled the sheets back from his body and shivered. "You're probably right, but I'm always cold when I wake up." He slid to the side of the bed, stood, and walked around it to retrieve his clothes. "I'll let Kuma out, then feed him." Matthew mumbled as he pulled his sweater over his head and bent to retrieve his trousers.

"I'll make breakfast," Ivan replied, pulling his own trousers back up his long legs. He stepped behind Matthew, who was just pulling up the zipper, and wrapped his arms around him from behind. He dropped his voice low and spoke very close to Mathew's ear. "And maybe afterwards we could have a bath?" He could see the edges of Matthew's lips curve in response to the question.

Matthew turned his head to look over his shoulder at Ivan. "I'd like that."

"Merry Christmas," Ivan murmured, giving Matthew a little squeeze.

Matthew looked back and beamed up at him. "Merry Christmas."

"I'll eat the door!" Kumajiro threatened, and started pawing more aggressively at the wood.

Matthew chuckled. "I'd better see to him before he stages a small revolt." He leaned back and pressed a kiss to Ivan's cheek. Then they walked out of the room together, hand in hand.


	18. Many Happy Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holidays continue, an unexpected reunion, and Alfred comes face to face with some very painful truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. 3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 18: Many Happy Returns

 

 

Matthew sat on the edge of the bed, his legs drawn up to his chest. He was watching Ivan sleep. Matthew was normally the one to sleep until noon, given half a chance, but he'd been especially well rested on this vacation, and had woken up before Ivan today. Ivan was laying on his stomach, an unusual position for him, and it gave Matthew an uninterrupted, unguarded look at Ivan's back. Ivan had mentioned the wounds he'd suffered under the Mongol horde, and Matthew had briefly felt some of them during their first night together, but this was the first time he'd _really_ seen them.

He felt a little bit guilty looking; Matthew knew Ivan didn't like to talk about his past, especially the painful parts of it. Ivan's back was _covered_ in scars. Some were small and thin, others were large and jagged, radically changing the shape of the skin around them. The injuries that inflicted the wounds varied. Some of the damage looked like burn marks, others jagged lacerations. Ivan had been whipped, more than once, and Matthew winced in sympathy as his eyes traced the puckered, distorted skin.

Ivan's lashes fluttered over pale cheeks, and his fingers twitched in the sheets beneath him. He was dreaming, but it didn't look like a happy one. A frown etched itself onto Ivan's features, and his head started to bob on the mattress in little jerks. Ivan's lips parted, and a small, distressed sound escaped.

Matthew leaned forward and clasped Ivan's shoulder. He'd meant to speak to Ivan, to try to wake him as gently as he could from his apparent nightmare, but he never got the chance. In an instant Ivan's eyes were open and he was moving, pulling Matthew down onto the bed and underneath him with a vicious snarl, pressing his hand to Matthew's throat.

Matthew peered up at Ivan with wide, almost panicked eyes as he squirmed underneath his hand, trying to get away, trying to breathe. Ivan blinked insensibly at him a few times before pulling his hands back sharply, as if he'd been burned. Ivan jerked backwards and might have fled the bed entirely if Matthew hadn't reached out to him again and grasped his wrist tightly. Ivan stilled and Matthew turned slightly onto his side, curling towards Ivan. For a few long moments they stared at each other and tried to catch their breath.

"Are you hurt?" Ivan asked, his voice a harsh whisper.

Matthew shook his head, and then winced, his free hand coming up to inspect his throat. "A little bruised maybe, but I'm fine."

Ivan sighed loudly, his chin dropping to his chest for a moment, his muscles sagging. " _ **Don't**_ do that again, Matvey, please."

"You were having a nightmare," Matthew protested softly, laying still against sheets still warm from Ivan's sleep.

Ivan shook his head roughly. "I don't care. I get them sometimes and I'm—I'm not myself when they happen; I don't have control. It's not _**safe**_." Ivan turned his head away and Matthew thought he would try to leave again, but he didn't. "I almost broke Toris's jaw once…I caught him right across the face with my elbow." Ivan dropped his head low again and squeezed his eyes shut, trying ineffectually to shut out the past. _That_ time, when he'd hit Toris it had been accidental…but that wasn't the only time.

Matthew shifted and sat up. He was about to pull Ivan backwards into a hug, then thought better of it, moved around him, and crawled into his lap. Ivan started slightly and went rigid, but his arms were around Matthew in an instant, holding him in place. "Breathe, Ivan," he murmured, nestling his head in the crook of Ivan's neck.

Ivan struggled to obey, but Matthew could feel finger's trembling on his back. "Maybe next time I can shake the bed frame or something," Matthew suggested. "It might still wake you, and then I wouldn't be in the line of fire."

Ivan pulled Matthew closer to him, and sighed again. "I'd rather you didn't."

"I'm not going to leave you alone to suffer a nightmare," Matthew insisted, looking up into Ivan's eyes with a serious expression.

"I don't get them that often," Ivan insisted. His nightmares had faded somewhat when he'd been honest with himself about what he'd become and tried to make what amends he could, but they weren't gone. It was still more than he deserved.

"I could also pelt you with socks," Matthew suggested, glancing over at Ivan's dresser.

"Socks?" Ivan's brows knit together in confusion.

Matthew nodded. "They're small, soft, and usually folded into little balls. They wouldn't hurt you, and I wouldn't need to get too close."

Ivan looked down at Matthew for a moment, before leaning forward and burying his own head into Matthew's shoulder. "Da. Throw socks at me if you must, but don't—If I'd hurt you…"

"You didn't," Matthew insisted, his long narrow fingers sliding gently over Ivan's cheeks. "And you won't. I'll stick to the rules, Ivan. I won't get too close, but I'm not going to let you suffer if I can help it."

A slight smile tugged at the edges of Ivan's lips and he pressed a kiss into Matthew's cheeks, then his lips.

"Is it because it's your birthday?" Matthew asked when Ivan pulled back.

Ivan frowned. Matthew was right, it was December 30th. Normally he had a better track of the days, especially around this time of year, but this year he had Matthew. It had been less than a week since December 24th, and it felt both as though too much, and not enough, time had passed. "Probably," Ivan admitted. "I don't have the best memories of this day."

Matthew frowned and leaned up to press another chaste kiss to Ivan's lips, framing his face with his hands. "That's a shame." Those were the same words he'd used when Ivan had first told him that he didn't like to celebrate his birthday. "You've made some mistakes Ivan, everybody does. Some bigger than others, but you are still a good person. Don't punish yourself forever."

Ivan pressed his hands on top of Matthew's and held them, pulling both sets of hands into his lap. A long moment of silence passed before Ivan said, "If you insist, I can teach you how to make Kulich. We can have some after dinner."

"Kulich?" Matthew asked, peering closely at Ivan and tilting his head.

"Kulich," Ivan repeated. "Is dessert. Sweet bread, almost a cake. Normally is made around Easter. I know a good recipe."

Matthew smiled up at him. He hadn't found out that Ivan's birthday was on the 30th of December until just before their flight into Moscow, so he hadn't been able to purchase a Birthday present. He'd been hoping to cook for Ivan, or something similar, until Ivan had harshly pointed out that he did not like to celebrate his birthday. They still hadn't exchanged Christmas gifts, they were waiting until the 7th, after the New Year. "I'd like that."

 

~*~*~*~

 

"Then you just pour them into the molds," Ivan murmured, leaning over Matthew's shoulder and helping him portion the dough into little round molds. Kulich was a time consuming recipe with many breaks for the dough to rise in a warm oven. The dough had just completed its second rise, and was about to be placed in the oven for its final proof before baking.

Matthew had been a very patient and attentive listener. Because of the many hours of rising time required, they'd started just after breakfast. Now it was a little after lunch. The Kulich should be ready just before dinner. Perfect timing.

Ivan watched Matthew frown in concentration as he portioned out the next bit of dough, placing it gently inside the mold, and smiled to himself. It felt good to be here with Matthew now, making Kulich. Ivan hadn't celebrated his birthday since… well, since Iryna had left. At first it had hurt too much, and more recently it hadn't seemed like anything worth celebrating. Matthew obviously saw things differently, and the mood was catching.

From the beginning of their friendship Matthew had been aware of Ivan's past, at least some of it, and had still seen someone worth getting to know, worth befriending… maybe even loving. Matthew had never once wavered in that opinion, even as he learned more about Ivan's shortcomings. Ivan was both humbled and immensely grateful for Matthew's presence in his life, and while he still doubted his own abilities to be a good partner, he'd lost all ability to resist his growing feelings when Matthew had confessed his own. All he could do now was try to be worthy of his blessings.

Matthew glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Ivan, who readily smiled back. "Now we put them back in the oven to rise, right?"

Ivan nodded. "Da. Another two hours, then we can take them out while the oven preheats from 37 degrees to 190 degrees."

Matthew pulled the oven door open, keeping his face turned away so that the sudden rush of heat wouldn't fog his glasses, then he slipped the tray of prepped Kulich into the oven to rise for the final time. Matthew closed the oven door, straightened, and turned to face Ivan. "Thank you for teaching me."

Ivan stepped closer, putting his hands on counters to either side of Matthew, boxing him in against the stove. "Thank you for listening."

They leaned towards each other and their lips brushed in the barest beginnings of a kiss. Matthew had just pressed his palm against Ivan's chest and parted his lips when a flutter of soft knocking echoed through the house.

They paused, pulled back slightly and listened. After a pause the knocking came again, a rapid burst of nervous energy. They turned their heads in unison and stared in the direction of the hallway. The knocking was coming from the front door.

Ivan straightened, then frowned and walked out of the kitchen towards the front door. Matthew followed behind him, somewhat reluctantly and suddenly very, very nervous. He'd never received a reply to his letter and with the events of recent days it had been the absolute _last_ thing on his mind. This unexpected knocking brought Matthew's actions, his hopes, if not his plans, back to the forefront of his mind. This could be a good thing…or a _very_ bad thing. God he hoped this was a good thing, for his own sake and, more importantly, for Ivan.

The knocking had just started again when Ivan undid the lock and pulled open the door. There in the snow, with her hand half raised in mid knock was _Iryna_. Her short white-blond hair was pulled back by a delicate white lace headband, a departure from her usual plain yellow one. She wore a long black wool coat, buttoned up tight against the weather, which fell right to the ankles of her sturdy brown boots. Her eyes, already red and watery, overflowed when she saw him. She opened her mouth and breathed out a shaky, "Hello, little brother. Happy Birthday."

"Iryna," Ivan breathed, stepping forward on unsteady feet.

"Oh, Ivan!" Iryna cried, leaping the short distance into his arms, holding him close in a desperate grip. Ivan held her just as tightly, and they both sank to their knees in the doorway, heedless of the snow blowing up and in around them.

"Vanya," Iryna breathed, "I shouldn't have gone away for so long… I never should have left. Please forgive me."

"Iryna, no," Ivan protested, shaking his head slightly, but still refusing to pull back. "Don't apologize. You had to. Christ, what are you doing here?"

"I'm **not** going to stay away from my brother anymore," Iryna vowed, pulling back just enough to meet Ivan's almost disbelieving gaze with her steadfast one. " _Never again_ , Vanya. My bosses can say what they like, but you are my _brother_ , you're my _family_ , and I should _never_ have turned my back on you." Iryna pulled Ivan closer, pressing a kiss into both cheeks, then his forehead. "I missed you, Ivan," she murmured.

Ivan wanted to tell her that she hadn't been foolish, that she'd done what she'd needed to in order to survive, but all that came out was, "I missed you too, Iryna."

Matthew, who had been half hiding in the doorway to the study tried to ease himself back into the room without being noticed, but as he shifted a floorboard creaked loudly under his weight and Iryna's eyes snapped to his. She straightened slightly when she saw him, lifting herself up a bit on her knees. "Are you Matthew?"

Matthew flinched and fought the sudden, intense urge to shrink back into the doorway. Instead he forced himself to step properly into the hallway and nod. "Hello Iryna." In truth they'd met a few times before, but only very briefly, over twenty years ago as they both established embassies in each other's countries. Since that time Canadian and Ukraine relations had been handled by the human politicians and leaders of each nation, and Matthew and Iryna had only seen each other in passing at world conferences.

Ivan pulled back slightly from Iryna, though he kept his arms firmly around her waist, and looked over at Matthew. "Ah, Iryna, Matvey is my guest for the next several weeks."

Iryna nodded, lifting a hand to wipe tears from her eyes. "I know, he wrote to me."

Ivan frowned, and looked quickly back at Iryna, then at Matthew. "You wrote her?"

Matthew shuffled nervously in place, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He hadn't wanted to stick his nose in Ivan's business, but at the same time he couldn't stay silent. Before he could manage a reply, Iryna was speaking again.

"Yes, I have his letter here." She reached into her coat and pulled out a heavily crinkled envelope, passing it to Ivan, who took it and gently unfolded the letter inside. It read:

_Dear Iryna,_

_I hope you will forgive me for addressing you so informally, but I wanted to be clear that this is a personal letter, not a political one._

_We've only spoken a few times, but in the last few months I've gotten to know your brother, Ivan. I can't say I know him very well, that takes years, but I hope to, eventually. One thing I do know for sure is that he loves you, and misses you._

_Everyone knows that Ivan wears the scarf you made him as often as he can, but did you know he also carries a handkerchief with a sunflower embroidered on it? He says it is a reminder of you. He also told me that the two of you haven't spoken in a long time because your bosses were struggling with each other politically. I even think Sunflowers might be his favorite flower because they're_ _**your** _ _nation's flower._

_I know I probably shouldn't be writing you. This is a deeply personal concern, and there are no easy answers when our bosses are in conflict with our family, but… This separation is hard on Ivan, harder than he likes to let on._

_I won't presume to tell you what to do, but I wanted you to know that I don't think our bosses should have the right to dictate our personal lives like that. If you love and miss your brother as much as he loves and misses you, then what are you waiting for? Even our long lives are too short to spend time separated from our loved ones._

_If you have any concerns about the reactions of your bosses, I will happily support you in any way that I can, personally_ _**and** _ _politically, if need be._

_I know I have no right to speak with you about this, so I hope you can forgive my boldness, and if you choose not to reply, I will understand. If you do want to reply, I will be staying with your brother over the holidays in his house in Moscow… I know he'd love to see you for his birthday._

_Please think about what I've written, and know I understand that no one can make this choice but you._

_Best wishes,_

_Matthew Williams_

Ivan finished scanning the letter, then looked up at Matthew astonished.

It was hard for Matthew to keep his eyes trained on Ivan, because he couldn't tell if he was upset or not about Matthew's interference. He swallowed and forced himself to try to explain. "Y-you just looked so sad when you talked about Iryna not being here, and I thought—whoa!"

Ivan had reached out and tugged Matthew to him, causing Matthew to fall to his knees and, consequently, into Ivan's arms. Ivan's grip was tight, almost crushing, but Matthew kept his own arms locked around Ivan, making no attempt to get away. "You're not mad?" Matthew breathed.

Ivan shook his head vehemently. "Nyet." Slowly, he lifted his head and looked between Matthew and Iryna. "I think I should have done the same thing a long time ago, I just, I didn't want you to face the consequences, Iryna."

Iryna shook her head and moved her arms to encircle both Ivan and Matthew in a tight hug. "We've always tried to protect each other, little brother, but I'm not afraid of what my bosses might say, not anymore. It was more painful to stay away than to face anything they might do."

They stayed huddled in a close hug in the doorway of Ivan's home for a long time, heedless of stiff muscles, the cold, or the snow that was blowing in around them. It was Iryna who finally broke the hold, responding to the sensation of tiny paws pressing into her legs. She turned and immediately gushed over what she saw.

"Blue!"

The cat chirped fondly at her as she scooped him into her arms. "How have you been, my little darling? Hm? Has Ivan been taking good care of you?" Blue nestled into the fold of her arms, closing his eyes into a half squint, and began purring loudly.

"I hope I have been doing a better job of it lately," Ivan confessed, reaching forward to scratch blue gently under the chin.

"It's cold in here."

They turned and found Kumajiro walking down the hall towards them.

"We'll close the door in a moment, Kuma," Matthew assured him, gently disentangling himself room Ivan and rising to his feet. "You're a polar bear; I think you can handle it even when you're not at full size."

Ivan stood beside Matthew and helped Iryna to her feet before closing the door, securing the locks in place once more.

"He's so cute," Iryna cooed, stepping up to Kumajiro, and petting him gently on the head. "He's yours, right Matvey?"

Matthew nodded. "Yup. We've been together since the beginning. We're kind of a package deal."

Blue mewed unhappily, probably less than thrilled to so suddenly be sharing Iryna's attention. Iryna smiled fondly and pressed a kiss to the top of the cat's head.

"Iryna, would you like to sit down in the study?" Ivan asked. "Matvey and I had lunch not long ago, but I could bring out some tea and snacks."

Iryna turned and beamed at her brother. "I'd love that, Ivan, as long as it's not too much trouble."

Ivan smiled, a broad smile that reached his eyes, and stepped closer to Iryna, pressing a chaste kiss into her temple. "Is no trouble at all."

"Would you like some help, Ivan?" Matthew asked as they all stepped into the study.

Ivan shook his head. "Nyet, I will only be a moment."

Ivan stepped out and Iryna settled back into the large sofa by the fireplace. "Is that Kulich I smell?"

Matthew, taking a seat beside her, nodded. "Ivan's been showing me how to make it. He said it's normally made around Easter, but he's fond of it. I wanted to celebrate his birthday."

Iryna nodded, still blinking back tears. "Me too." She leaned forward and grasped Matthew's left hand with her right one. "Thank you for writing to me, Matthew. I always think about Ivan this time of year. I've almost gone to visit him so many times…I think this was the push I needed."

"I'm glad," Matthew replied, giving Iryna's hand a brief squeeze. "I hope you're planning to stay for a few days."

Iryna nodded. "I was hoping to stay until just after Christmas if Ivan wouldn't mind."

"You'll be lucky if I let you go," Ivan replied, coming back into the room with a tray of tea and other refreshments

Iryna looked up at Ivan and smiled again. "I do have a life of my own to lead, little brother." She reached out and grasped Ivan's hands as he set down the tray. "But you will _always_ be a part of it."

 

~*~*~*~

 

Alfred sat pressed up tight against the wall, shaking, and covered in sweat. His hands were pressed flat to the floor, his knees were bent up close to his chest, and he was breathing hard, _praying_ he wasn't about to be sick again. He was trying to focus intently on a tear in the knee of his pajamas, because every time he moved he head and his vision swam, adding to his present state of misery.

He'd read the letter.

A small piece of paper shouldn't have such a strong effect on him, but the words had struck home and, even in his inebriated state, they'd _haunted_ him.

He'd decided to try to read them sober. Surely in the clear light of day he'd be able to dismiss the letter and move on, as he should have done before.

 _Big_ mistake.

He hadn't had a drink in two days and he felt like he was going to _die_. He wouldn't, obviously, being a nation… or maybe he could die? As long as America existed it would have a personification, but that didn't mean it had to be _him_. If his body was ill or injured enough he could die. He would reform, of course, but it wouldn't be the same…

 _Fuck_ , maybe he should see a doctor. He was all alone here... if he had a seizure from the withdrawals, no one would know…

Alfred's trembling gaze surveyed the room. Christ his place was a mess.

_Do you have_ _**any** _ _idea what it feels like to come home after a long day of meetings and see the carpet so thick with Kumajirou's fur it's almost white? You probably, no… You_ _**definitely** _ _don't_ _**care** _ _!_

Alfred thought his phone might be somewhere on the coffee table. He shifted, trying to stand, and collapsed face first on the carpet. He turned his head, gasping for air and retching violently, the movement too much for his aching body. When the spasms subsided Alfred pressed his hands firmly into the carpet, heedless of the sticky mess under his palms, struggling desperately to stabilize himself on hands and knees. He lurched forward in jerky, uncoordinated movements, pushing his shaking limbs through the mess he'd left behind and trailing it after him.

He'd always been a fan of horror movies, but now he might as well have been in one. He certainly felt like a monster.

_I am so_ _**fucking** _ _tired of cleaning up your messes…_

_I have been standing here for_ _**years** _ _beside you, I thought you loved me, I thought we had something special, but I was the only one, wasn't I?_

Starlight burst through Alfred's vision as his head collided sharply with the coffee table and he collapsed onto his side, striking his head a second time on the way down.

"Fuck!" Alfred clutched his head and moaned softly. Jesus he was so pathetic. Slowly, agonizingly, he stretched one arm up and over the lip of the coffee table, pawing blindly for his phone and knocking all manner of debris down on top of him in the process. _Finally_ his fingers brushed a familiar smooth surface, and he strained to pull the phone closer, his fingers scrabbling against the table top. He had trouble keeping the phone in his hand, and as he pulled it over the edge of the coffee table it fell and struck Alfred across the forehead before sliding over the floor and under the coffee table.

Alfred didn't even have the energy to be frustrated, he simply began the laborious process of inching is way under the heavy table, reaching, straining to make contact with his phone once more. He managed, somehow, to reach it, and inch it across the filthy floor, closer to his face. When he flipped it over the screen was cracked, but he could still sort of see the display. His vision was swimming so badly the damaged screen might have actually helped him see it better, he wasn't sure.

Slowly, and with much fumbling, Alfred opened his phone ap. Once it was open, however, his fingers stalled. Who should he call? Who would want to help, or even _care_? A series of short, ragged gasps escaped his lips and his fingers started moving again. He was calling Arthur.

 _Arthur Kirkland_.

It was stupid, so stupid, he shouldn't be bothering Artie like this… He _should_ probably call an ambulance. He just had to hang up, press and swipe the red button.

"Good morning Alfred," Arthur sounded well rested, almost cheerful, "I suppose it's good afternoon to you, though."

Alfred parted his dried, cracked lips and tried to reply, but all that came out was a small, creaky sounds.

"Alfred, are you there?"

Alfred pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, trying to swallow, to clear his throat, _something_.

"Oh for… You have got to stop butt dialing me, Alfred!" There was a pause, Alfred could hear the indistinct murmuring of Francis' voice, and then Arthur sighed. "I _know_ he can't hear me. Hell, he barely even listens to me when we are talking. It's just been a while since we've spoken and I thought…"

The silence stretched on and Alfred worked his tongue and lips furiously, trying to make a sound, to speak. Arthur was about to hang up, he was frustrated, as usual, and if he severed the connection he wouldn't pick it up when Alfred called again, at least not today.

"Artie…" It was only a raspy, broken word, but Arthur must have heard it, because he seemed instantly alert and concerned.

"Alfred? Alfred was that you? Are you okay?"

Alfred tried to shake his head, then hissed as he bumped his head against the coffee table again.

"Alfred?!" Arthur sounded genuinely distressed now.

"'m here," Alfred murmured. "Sorry, I…" Alfred sucked in a breath and suddenly his eyes welled with tears. This wasn't the first time he'd called Arthur either shitfaced or reeling from withdrawal. "I shouldn't have called."

Alfred could almost see Arthur leaning forward in his chair, cupping the phone with both hands, on high alert. "Alfred, don't be silly. I'm right here. What's happened? What's wrong?"

Alfred struggled to keep his rapidly escalating breathing even. "'m sick… _fucking withdrawals_.

Arthur cursed softly, and there was more muffled talking. He must have put the phone down because now Alfred couldn't even hear his voice clearly… or maybe he just couldn't hear clearly in general.

"Alfred, Alfred listen to me. Are you there?"

"Still breathing," Alfred croaked back, chuckling darkly at his own morbid humor.

On the other end of the line, Arthur drew in a sharp, alarmed breath of air. "Alfred, _where_ are you?"

"My apartment in D.C.," Alfred breathed, his eyes drifting shut as another wave of dizziness washed over him. He was so _tired_ …

"Alfred, we're reaching out to your people, we're going to send an ambulance to you."

_I just can't do this anymore, Alfred..._

He didn't deserve it, _God_ , he really didn't…

"Alfred," Arthur's voice was tense and concerned again. "Stay with me, Alfred. Help will be there soon.

" _One day you are going to realize what you lost, Alfred. I pity you the shock you're going to feel."_

"You were right, Arthur… Christ you were right all along…" Matthew's face flashed in front of his eyes, one hand cupped to his cheek just after Alfred had hit him, Gilbert's arms looping around Matthew's shoulders, pulling him away. Matthew hadn't looked back, and he had no reason to…

Arthur was talking again, but Alfred couldn't hear him. He'd scrunched his eyes shut, balled up his hands into fists, and pressed his arms over his eyes, because the truth was staring him in the face and it was raw, ugly, and unbearable.

Oh _God_ , what had he done?

 

~*~*~*~

 

Matthew smoothed one of his red hoodies on the bed with his hands, folding it tightly and neatly before placing it in his suitcase. It was the 9th of January; he was going home today. It was bittersweet, especially considering his burgeoning relationship with Ivan, but he would not abandon his responsibilities, or his people. Cohabitation was impossible and, frankly, a little distance was probably healthy right now. Even if things went well, Matthew didn't want to be consumed by a relationship ever again. Balance was necessary, even in normal human relationships.

Matthew turned to grab his next piece of clothing and the small snow globe on his bedside table caught his eye. Matthew turned and reached for it, turning it over in his hands and smiling. Inside was a replica of Saint Basil's Cathedral from the Red Square; it had been Ivan's Christmas present to him, and Matthew _loved_ it. It was simple and sentimental, a perfect memento of his time here.

Turning back to his suitcase, Matthew nestled the globe carefully around his clothing, so that it would be protected during his trip home. As he did so, his fingers brushed against the soft red hat Iryna knitted for him before she even arrived. It too was simple, and Matthew was still deeply touched.

Ivan and he had almost exchanged presents in private on January 7th, not wanting Iryna to feel excluded, when Iryna herself had presented them both with presents she had brought with her. Ivan received a framed picture of Iryna and himself, which was now proudly displayed on the fireplace mantle in Ivan's study.

Matthew had presented Ivan with a collection of seed packets for various flowers he thought would grow well in Ivan's now dormant garden, the most prevalent of which was Rose Campion seeds. They needed little to no attention and eagerly re-seeded themselves every year, so Ivan would be able to enjoy them without worrying about them when he was away on long business trips. Ivan had seemed touched by the gift, and thanked Matthew with a brief, but sweet kiss on the lips.

Iryna had insisted that she didn't need or want any presents from them as she'd handed over her own gifts to them. " _I have my brother back. That's all I could ask for from either of you_." She'd said.

"Ready to go?"

Matthew turned and smiled at Ivan, who was leaning against the doorframe to the guestroom. Even though they ended up sleeping in Ivan's room most nights since the 24th of December, Matthew hadn't moved any of his belongings over; he didn't want to cling to this relationship until it broke. Ivan hadn't mentioned it and they both seemed to be on the same page about taking things as they came, without trying to rush.

"Almost," Matthew replied, glancing back to his suitcase. "I've just got a few more clothes to fold, and then my toiletries." He glanced briefly at Kumajiro who, like any faithful companion would be, was passed out on the foot of the bed, snoring softly.

Ivan stepped close to Matthew, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Matthew's shoulders, pulling him back against his chest. Matthew lifted his hands and pressed them against Ivan's arms, keeping them there. "Thank you for spending your holidays with me."

Matthew smiled and tipped his head back over Ivan's shoulder, leaning in for a kiss before he replied, "Thank you for inviting me. I promise I didn't come with the intention of seducing you."

Ivan chuckled softly and squeezed Matthew gently. "I wasn't expecting that either. …Thank you, for trusting me."

Matthew turned in Ivan's arms and looped them around Ivan's waist, while Ivan's own arms rested on his shoulders. "You made that easy," Matthew assured him. "You're a good man, Ivan."

Ivan leaned forward and pressed a long, lingering kiss to Matthew's lips. They had agreed earlier that Ivan would drop him off outside the terminal, and they were both reserved people, so this was likely to be their best chance to say a proper, lingering goodbye.

"We have to leave in twenty minutes," Ivan murmured as he pulled back.

Matthew nodded. 'I'll be ready."

Ivan reached up and lightly caressed Matthew's cheek, brushing some of his longer strands of hair away from his face. "Until next time."

"Until next time," Matthew agreed, pulling Ivan down for one last, sweet kiss.


	19. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth can hurt, but it's only when we face it that we can change it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ I had to go to a training for work today, so I got out early and that means a early upload time, yay!
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> Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
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> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy! 

Chapter 19: Growing Pains

 

"Cher, wait." Francis grabbed Arthur by the shoulders and forced him to come to a stop. Arthur jolted, straining against Francis' hands, and looking very much as though he wanted to barrel through the doors to the hospital less than twenty yards ahead of him.

Francis could feel Arthur's shoulder muscles knotting before he turned around, wrenching himself free of Francis' grip. " _What_?" Arthur snapped.

"Cher, I really think we should take a minute before we go to see Alfred."

Arthur bristled. "I'm sorry, I thought the _seven hour_ plane ride would be enough!"

Francis frowned, but he didn't snap back, he just pulled a reluctant Arthur into his arms. "I know you are frightened for him, Cher. I am too, but going in there like this will help no one. We called from the hotel; they said Alfred was stable, that he was past the worst of it, medically. A few more minutes will not make any difference.

Arthur grumbled, them sagged against Francis, his arms coming up to rest unsteadily at Francis' waist. Francis rocked them both slowly back and forth for a moment. He heard Arthur sniffle, and then a long, tremulous sigh. "You are not alone, Cher. Neither is Alfred," Francis reminded him, holding him tightly, cradling the back of Arthur's head with one hand.

"You're right," Arthur breathed into his neck, his grip around Francis' waist tightening. "Thank you."

They stayed like that, locking in a tight embrace, just breathing, for several long minutes before Arthur tried to pull back. Francis let him go and they shared a watery smile before linking hands and continuing the short walk into the hospital lobby.

It was cold inside the hospital. Cold, bright, and it smelled strongly of disinfectant. Arthur and Francis walked together up to the information desk, where they were greeted by a tall, slender woman in her early thirties. She had long brown hair pulled back behind her head in a tight bun. "Welcome gentlemen. My name is Susan. How may I help you?"

"Good evening, Mademoiselle," Francis greeted her with a kind smile. "We are here to visit with Alfred F. Jones; I believe he is on your detoxification unit."

Susan bent over the computer at her work station, typing and clicking the mouse in rapid succession, checking the records. At last she nodded, and straightened. "Yes, he's up on the third floor. The elevators are just over there," she gestured to the far left wall, "Once you're on the third floor turn right and follow the sign. The detoxification unit is just at the end of the hall."

Francis and Arthur murmured their mutual thanks, and turned to follow her instructions. Three minutes later they had located the detoxification unit, spoken with its receptionist, and were being led back to Alfred's room. It wasn't a private room, but that information had hardly been surprising. Private rooms were expensive and few detoxification units had them.

"He's just in here," the male attendant said to them, pausing outside a door marked 321. "You picked a good time to come; his roommate will be meeting with our care coordinator for the next hour. It'll be at the front if you need anything."

"Thank you," Arthur murmured, turning his head slightly toward the attendant, but not really taking his eyes off the door to Alfred's room. Once the attendant had moved away he stepped forward and knocked softly.

A raspy voice sounded from the other side. "Come in."

Arthur pushed open the door and stepped inside. Francis, who was trailing close behind Arthur, shut the door behind him.

Alfred sat on his bed, his back against the wall, his legs drawn up to his chest, and his arms wrapped loosely around them. Alfred glanced up briefly, then away. He swallowed thickly trying to figure out what he should say. He still felt wretched, but no longer as though he were in any immediate danger of dying, physically at least. He ran his tongue over rough, cracked lips in an attempt to moisten them and murmured, "Thank you for helping me." He winced, his voice sounded rough even to his own ears, but it couldn't be helped right now. All the vomiting he'd done over the last two days certainly hadn't done his throat any favors. Personified nation or not, it would still take time to heal.

"Of course, love," Arthur replied, his voice soft and sympathetic. "Can we sit with you?" Arthur gestured to the chairs that were in the room beside the bed and Alfred, without looking over, nodded.

Alfred heard the scrape of their chairs on the floor as they sat and closed his eyes, trying to block out reality for a moment. "It didn't help..."

Francis and Arthur frowned at each other for a moment before turning back to Alfred. "Do you need more medicine?" Francis asked, half rising, ready to call a nurse over to the room, but Alfred shook his head, then winced, moving his hands up to cradle his own head.

"No... Maybe soon, but that's not what I was talking about," Alfred replied.

"What were you talking about, love?" Arthur asked, leaning forward in his seat.

Haltingly, painfully, Alfred reached into the pocket of the scrubs he'd been issued and pulled a crumbled, stained piece of paper out of his pocket. He slid it onto the mattress between himself, Arthur, and Francis. "I thought it would help if I read it sober... but it didn't."

Arthur felt a cold shock run through him when he saw the familiar, taped together letter. It was the one Matthew had written this past spring, the one he'd collected and sent to Alfred a few weeks before the winter conference.

"I'm not sure you're quite sober yet," Francis observed.

Alfred huffed a humorless laugh. "They do have me on a Lorazapram taper, so you have a point there." Alfred's gaze slid to the letter, and he turned his head so he could properly face Arthur. "You sent it, didn't you?"

Arthur looked slightly stricken, but he held Alfred's gaze and nodded. "I did. I wasn't sure if you'd even read it, but you haven't returned any of my calls for months now."

"I felt like you were all ganging up with Mattie against me," Alfred admitted.

"No!" Arthur rushed forward in his seat and reached over the letter to grasp Alfred's cool, clammy hand in his. "None of us ever intended it that way," he assured Alfred.

Francis nodded. "You are _both_ our children, but we can only really speak with you if you're willing to speak with us, or return our calls."

A grim smile stretched across Alfred's features. "You're right, I know you are."

"I didn't send the letter to attack you, Alfred," Arthur said, squeezing Alfred's hand gently. "I just... I didn't know what to do. I couldn't get to you; I thought Matthew might have a better chance."

Alfred squeezed Arthur's hand before gently withdrawing his own and picking up the letter. He unfolded it and stared at it for a moment. It was as much of a mess as he felt. Torn up and carefully taped back together. Stained from weeks of mistreatment at Alfred's hands, and smeared in Matthew's haste to get his thoughts down on paper... maybe there were a few tear tracks too.

"He never meant to send it to me," Alfred observed.

Arthur shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

Alfred sighed and let the letter slip between his fingers, onto the bed sheets beneath him. "Can't say I blame him. He tried to talk to me. He tried so many times, right up until he left. We had an argument at dinner shortly before he disappeared. We got loud, but I honestly can't say I remember what it was even about." Alfred sighed and leaned his head against the wall. "I guess I just didn't want to listen."

Arthur reached for Alfred's hand again, and Alfred allowed it, turning his head when Francis also reached for his hand. They looked at each other, holding hands in a silent show of solidarity.

Alfred shifted and focused on his breathing for a few moments as he and the doctor had talked about. He was _and_ he wasn't glad that Arthur and Francis were here. He didn't like feeling dependent on anyone, but the inescapable truth was he'd needed their help. Hell he probably still needed it and, despite his own reticence, he was immensely grateful that they had each still been willing to help him when he'd called. But if he thought about it too much... if he thought about _anything_ too much his mind recoiled from the pain. He had to take a look at it, but at the same time he couldn't handle it all at once.

"Listen," Alfred murmured, holding first Arthur's gaze, then Francis'. "I don't want you guys to stay." They each looked stricken and Alfred leaned forward, rushing to make himself understood. "I mean after I'm out. I know..." Alfred blew out a big sigh and raked a hand through his short hair. "I know how much trouble I probably caused, forcing you guys to drop everything to see me, and I'm really grateful, but after I get out of here I think I need to figure things out for myself."

Arthur still looked slightly stricken, but Francis nodded. "I can see you are still unwell," he gestured to Alfred's trembling fingers. "For today, we can stay until your roommate comes back. Tomorrow we will call you and see how you are feeling, what you're up for."

Alfred nodded. "Thanks. That'd be great. I could let you know my schedule then, too."

"Schedule?!" Arthur sputtered. "They put you on a _schedule_ when you're this ill?"

Alfred managed a weak grin. "Calm down, Artie. They're not too strict about it. I need to go see the lead nurse every four hours for an evaluation, then I meet with the care coordinator once a day or so. She's kind of a therapist, and she tries to help people figure out what they're going to do after this, if anything. She's not bad. A little bitchy with her coworkers, but she's always nice to the clients. She's about six months pregnant, so maybe the stress is getting to her." Alfred shrugged.

"It's good there are some supports here instead of just the nurses and doctors," Francis observed.

Alfred shrugged again. "Yeah. There's also a common room with a TV, books, and some games. It's not bad." He gestured to his bedside table where a small pile of books and a deck of cards were laid out.

Francis leaned across Arthur for a moment and plucked the deck of cards from its resting place. "Can I interest you in a game?" he asked, gesturing towards Alfred with the deck of cards.

Again a fleeting smiled crossed Alfred's lips. With some grunting and great effort, he shifted so that he was leaning with his back against the wall, so he was facing his parents. "I think I have the energy for that," he agreed. "What's the game?"

"Crazy Eights?" Francis suggested.

"Sure," Alfred agreed. He remembered playing cards with Francis, Arthur, and Matthew when he was younger. It was something they had always done on the rare occasions they could get together as a 'family' before Matthew and he had grown up. They were good memories, and it had been _ages_ since they'd played.

Alfred's hands still shook, his stomach rolled, and his head pounded, but he still threw himself into the game with vigor; for a short half hour his physical and emotional misery receded. It was... nice, but fragile too. Alfred tried not to dwell on it, but he _knew_ it had been too long since he'd just spent time with someone. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. Francis and Arthur spoke softly and infrequently in deference to the pain Alfred was still in, but they stayed engaged with him and with their games. Alfred didn't win, but that was almost better. If he had won he knew he'd be suspicious that one or both of them had thrown the game to try to cheer him up... Alfred didn't want that kind of sympathy.

At last the door opened and a tan skinned, dark haired man with a slightly scraggly beard shuffled in. He smiled wanly and nodded to Alfred and his guests before moving to his bed. Francis and Arthur glanced questioningly at Alfred, as though they were considering finishing their current game, but Alfred shook his head, wincing slightly at the movement. "We should let him rest," Alfred whispered.

Francis and Arthur nodded and Alfred slowly gathered up the cards, putting them back in their frayed cardboard container. Once the cards were safely stowed, Arthur and Francis stood. Alfred, on somewhat shakier feet, stood as well. "Thank you for coming," Alfred murmured.

"You're welcome, Poppet," Arthur replied, gently pulling Alfred into a hug. Francis also slipped his arms around Alfred, completing the group hug. Alfred felt his chest tighten painfully as he nestled his head between them. They held the embrace for a long moment before Alfred managed to make himself ease back.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Francis murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to each of Alfred's cheeks in turn. Alfred nodded, not trusting himself to speak, just waving after them as they went.

Francis waited until they had stepped outside and he felt the cool chill of the winter air sweep against his face, before he slipped his arm around Arthur's shoulders and pulled him close. Arthur sagged against him, though he kept walking forward, keeping an easy pace alongside Francis. "You did well, Cher."

Now Arthur did stop, sheltering with Francis under one of the small trees outside the hospital. "Did I?" He asked. " _I_ sent him the letter, Francis." Arthur sighed and shook his head, pressing himself against Francis' chest. "I just couldn't leave well enough alone. He's probably felt both badgered and isolated for _months_ now."

"You let him know you were there, that _we_ are both here for him," Francis corrected, holding Arthur close. "He needed to know what was in that letter, Cher. I would not have helped you reassemble it or encouraged you to send it if I did not think so." Francis leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Arthur's temple. "Letting go has always been the hardest thing for you, Cher, but it needs to be done. Alfred is safe for now. All we can do is continue to be there for him, and respect his independence."

Arthur reached up and pressed his fingers to Francis' lips, not wanting to hear about leaving when they had only just arrived. He knew Francis was right, of course he did, but they didn't have to leave _today_. Right now, today was all Arthur wanted to think about.

Francis pressed his lips against Arthur's fingers in another kiss, then reached up to both pull Arthur's hand away, and intertwine their fingers. "It has been a long day. Let's go back to the hotel and rest. There is always room service if we are hungry later."

Arthur looked up at him with a grateful smile and nodded. "That sounds good. Thank you for being so strong through all this."

"You were there for me when Matthieu came home broken hearted," Francis replied with a watery smile. "We are there for our children and each other," Francis assured him, reaching out to caress Arthur's cheek with his free hand. "I believe something like that was in our wedding vows, non?"

"For better or worse," Arthur agreed, pulling Francis into a tight hug.  

 

~*~*~*~

 

"And then Ludwig walked in!" Gilbert cackled with laughter on the other end of the phone. "Gott, Birdie, you should have seen his _face_!"

Matthew, who had been clutching his stomach and trying to control his breathing, surrendered to waves of laughter once more. God, he was sore from laughing, but it was worth it. He'd called Gilbert after dinner to check in and kill time, but it was almost time for him to make another call. Matthew sucked in desperate lungfuls of air and tried to steady himself. "Jesus, Gill. I'm glad I don't have to go anywhere right now. I'm literally light headed from lack of oxygen."

"I'm just that good, eh?" Gilbert asked, and Matthew could almost see him wiggling his eyebrows.

"You are awesome, there's no denying that," Matthew agreed, valiantly holding back a snort of laughter. If he got started again, he'd definitely be late. "But as much as I enjoy your company, I do have another call I need to make in the next five minutes."

"Oh?" Gilbert asked. "It's a little late for a work call where you are, isn't it, Birdie?"

"It's not a work call, Gill," Matthew assured him, his own smile shifting from amused to smitten.

"Oooh? I'm curious now," Gilbert replied. "Who're you calling?"

"Ivan."

" _Ivan_ , huh? I take it your winter holidays went well?"

Matthew willed himself not to flush, and failed. "Yes," he admitted. "Ivan and I are actually-"

"I knew it!" Gilbert's exclamation was so loud, that Matthew had to pull the phone away from his ear. "You _are_ dating him, aren't you?"

"We're seeing each other, yes," Matthew replied, shaking his head at Gilbert's enthusiasm.

"That's awesome news, Birdie!" Gilbert crowed.

Matthew's smile widened. "Thank you. I wasn't expecting it, but I'm happy."

"Good!" Gilbert insisted. "You deserve to be happy, Birdie. I'll get going now, but I expect you to call me tomorrow and tell me how your date went."

"Goodnight Gilbert," Matthew said. He probably would call in a few days, but Gilbert knew by now he'd never actually get any juicy details from Matthew about his love life.

"Goodnight, Birdie," Gilbert replied, "Talk to you soon."

Matthew heard the click of the call disconnecting. He moved his phone so that he could see the screen, and put in on silent. He was using video chat and his webcam to speak with Ivan, just as they'd been doing for months now, and he didn't want to be interrupted. Glancing once at Kumajiro, who was sleeping soundly on the rug in the hallway, Matthew turned and logged in to his computer. A minute later Ivan's call came through, and he quickly accepted it.

Matthew beamed at the image of Ivan that appeared on his screen. "Hello, Ivan."

"Greetings, Matvey," Ivan replied with a nod. "How are you?"

"A little tired, but I think I'm over my jetlag. What about you?" Matthew's smile faded slightly as nervousness crept in. "Have you heard from Iryna yet?"

Ivan nodded. "I have. She is well. Her boss wasn't pleased about her visit, but she said she wasn't intimidated." Ivan paused and a fleeting smile passed over his features. "Well, she used stronger language than that, but I think she made her position clear to them. She's not going to go away again."

"I'm glad," Matthew replied, his eyes sweeping over Ivan's features. Being a personified nation could be a heavy burden at times, but in his last week with Ivan, and the week since Matthew had returned home, much of the tension Ivan had carried around with him had bled away. Personified nations didn't really age after they reached maturity, but even so Ivan looked younger, as though a physical weight had been lifted as well as an emotional one.

"Thank you for writing her," Ivan murmured his voice thick. He'd thanked Matthew many times already, but it bore repeating. If Ivan was honest with himself, he'd probably be thanking Matthew for the rest of his life. Matthew had done what Ivan couldn't bring himself to do, and now Ivan had his sister back.

"You're welcome," Matthew replied, his voice soft and affectionate. "I know I'm technically and outsider in all this, and I doubt she needs itâ€”she is your sisterâ€”but if she ever needs any backup, I'd be more than happy to stand with her."

Ivan chuckled quietly. "I think just the sight of you angry would send her boss into a tailspin."

"Being quiet and shy can have its advantages," Matthew replied, grinning unrepentantly into the camera.

"That it can," Ivan agreed. Matthew had stayed with him for a long time, and had only left a week ago; however Ivan found that he already missed the presence of the blonde Canadian in his home. Matthew had called when his plane landed to let Ivan know he was safe and settling in back home, but it was nice to actually see his face. "Are you ready to play?"

Matthew grinned and nodded. "I've got my set right here." He adjusted the camera on his laptop so that Ivan could see the waiting chess pieces. Before his regular games with Ivan had begun, Matthew had never been the biggest fan of chess. After their first month of games, Ivan had started teaching Matthew what he knew. As he improved, Matthew found the game was growing on him.

"What will you open with today?" Ivan asked. "The Catalan Opening? Two Knights Defense? Torre Attack?

"I thought I'd try something new," Matthew replied, reaching for his queen's pawn.

"Ah, the Queen's Gambit," Ivan concluded, watching Matthew place his pawn back on the board.

"You'll see," Matthew promised with an enigmatic smile.

Ivan studied the board, considering his first move. This wasn't uncommon. The first move set up so much of the rest of the game that it was often the move Ivan thought about the longest before actually making it. "How has your work been?"

"Good," Matthew replied, reaching for the tea he'd set out for himself and taking a long sip. "The year's still new, but my boss has been including me in more meetings. I think he noticed the shift in my work this past year, and he likes what he sees."

Ivan met Matthew's eyes briefly through the screen and smiled. "You have been more confident."

Matthew returned Ivan's easy smile. "Thanks, I've been working on it." He blew out a small sigh and set his tea back on the desk. "Honestly at the beginning I think I was being confident _at_ Alfred, which is silly because it was really only ever me holding myself back." Matthew shrugged. "It was past time for a change. Did I tell you Carlos hasn't taken out any of his aggression about Alfred on me in _months_?"

"No, but I am not surprised," Ivan replied, finally making his first move.

Matthew's response was quick and had Ivan looking at him slightly askance. "Your move," Matthew prompted, confident in his choice. This strategy would either work well or end horribly, but either way he would learn something.

"What about your work?" Matthew asked, watching with amusement as Ivan contemplated his next move.

"It is good," Ivan replied, lifting and moving his next piece. "My boss was not pleased about Iryna's visit, but I made it clear that my sister's visits are not up for debate."

"I'm not afraid to give him a piece of my mind, either," Matthew offered, deftly moving his next piece.

Ivan chuckled. "Thank you, but I do not think that will be necessary. He has other worries that are much more pressing." Ivan swept one of Matthew's pawns off the board, a move which was swiftly countered. "What are you planning?" Ivan asked as he watched Matthew lift away one of _his_ pawns.

"Maybe I'm approaching my chess game like my life," Matthew suggested. "Move with confidence, go after what I want, and take things as they come."

"Hmm." Ivan stared thoughtful at the board for a moment before looking back up at Matthew, eyes gleaming. "Very well. Let's see where this goes, shall we?"

As chess games went, this one was... odd. Every time Ivan thought he had a grasp on Matthew's strategy he would do something completely unexpected. Ivan was growing increasingly perplexed and frustrated, while Matthew seemed endlessly amused. Ivan might have wondered if Matthew was even taking the game seriously, but in less moves than he thought possible, Matthew had him backed into a corner. He was definitely improving, but Ivan wasn't out of options yet.

"Check," Ivan announced, shifting his king's bishop into position.

"Check mate!" Matthew retorted moving his queen's rook into position, simultaneously blocking Ivan's bishop and exposing Matthew's queen to threaten Ivan's king.

Ivan's jaw loosened, falling open in surprise. _How_ had he not seen that coming? He lifted his questioning eyes to Matthew's.

"Surprised?" Matthew asked with a coy smile.

Ivan nodded. This was the first time that Matthew had beaten him. That, in and of itself, wasn't so surprising. Matthew _had_ been improving; he was bound to beat Ivan eventually. What Ivan couldn't quite figure out was _how_ it had happened. "Will you tell me your strategy now?"

"I used a mix of them," Matthew confessed. "My biggest goal was really just confusing you. I thought that would throw you off... Looks like I was right."

Ivan shook his head in disbelief, and then looked back to Matthew with a smile. "Well done."

Matthew beamed back at him, almost glowing in response to the praise. "Thank you."

In that moment Ivan wished he could reach through the screen and touch Matthew's hand, hold him, kiss him, but wishing would not make it so. He had responsibilities to attend to, and he cared too much about his people to give them any less than his best, especially now that he was finally thinking clearly again. â€¦ Even so, allowances could be made.

"I learned today that I have a meeting with Alfred in the beginning of February," Ivan said. "Normally I would push for it to be a video-conference, but I think I will attend this one in person. Assuming, of course, you wouldn't object to my coming to visit for a few days afterwards?"

Matthew responded enthusiastically, sitting up straighter in his seat and leaning towards the camera. "I'd love that! Honestly I was trying to think of a way to suggest another visit before the spring World Conference, but I didn't want to impose."

"Don't be afraid to ask to spend time with me, Matvey," Ivan replied, his voice soft and affectionate. "I enjoy your company, and both our work schedules are demanding. We won't always be able to make a visit work, which is even more of a reason to take advantage of the times when we can."

Matthew nodded. "Agreed." He shifted and stretched in his seat, stifling a yawn behind the back of one hand.

"Should I be letting you get some sleep, Matvey?" Ivan asked

"No, not yet," Matthew protested, glancing at the clock. "I can stay a bit longer. Tomorrow's Saturday, and I'll get to sleep in."

"As you wish," Ivan replied, a gentle smile playing on his features. "If you nod off, though, I will send you to bed."

Matthew stuck out his tongue in protest. "Yes, _mom_."

"Ah, don't test me," Ivan warned, though his expression was playful. "I am not referred to as mother Russia for nothing."

Matthew chuckled softly. "I can believe that. I've seen enough of your nurturing impulses." In truth, Matthew had been grateful to be on the receiving end of Ivan's careful attention more than once. It wasn't that Matthew felt he needed careful handling, far from it. It was just nice to feel cared for.

"You have some nurturing impulses of your own," Ivan countered. "Remember when I visited this past fall? As I recall I had to sneak into the kitchen the morning after we exhausted ourselves with a snowball fight."

Matthew nodded, smiling at the memory. "Fair enough."

Ivan's computer pinged, announcing the receipt of an e-mail. Ivan intended to ignore it, but the message had an urgent marking. Frowning, he leaned closer to his screen, and clicked over to his e-mail. He knew Matthew could still see him, but he couldn't see Ivan's screen, so there was no chance of any state secrets being leaked. Not that he was worried about what Matthew might do with any sensitive information; Matthew was the picture of discretion. Even so, Ivan knew he had to follow protocol.

"Do you have to go?" Matthew asked softly, the barest hint of disappointment making itself known in his voice.

"I don't know yet," Ivan replied, scanning his inbox. He started slightly when he realized the message was from _Gilbert_. Usually personified nations didn't mark e-mails or other messages as urgent unless they were about something truly serious. The last time Ivan had an urgent message from another personified nation, _lives_ had been at stake. Ivan stiffened when he caught site of the subject line: _I know how to hide a body..._

_From: Gilbert Beilschmidt_

_To: Ivan Braginsky_

_Subject: I know how to hide a body..._

_Sent: January 19_ _th_ _, 2018 9:00am CET_

_Hey Ivan,_

_Birdie is my best friend. Don't break his heart okay?_

_Best wishes to you both. <3_

_\- Gilbert_

Ivan blinked, and leaned forward scanning the e-mail again.

"What is it?" Matthew asked his voice quiet and concerned. He's seen Ivan stiffen, and the look of alarm that crossed his face. This had to be serious.

"I think," Ivan began haltingly, "that Gilbert is congratulating me... and threatening me."

Matthew started, jolting upright in his chair. "He's what?!"

The ghost of a wry smile curled along the edges of Ivan's lips. "He's threatening me," Ivan repeated, "but he's being very polite about it." His eyes met Matthew's through the screen and his smile blossomed fully. "Here, I'll send you a copy of the message."

Matthew's computer dinged a moment later and Matthew leaned closer to the screen as he rushed to open his e-mail. When Matthew scanned the message he felt a strong blush creep up his neck and over his cheeks. "Of, God," he murmured, sinking back into his chair and covering his mouth with his hands. "I'm so sorry. I'll talk to him."

Ivan chuckled softly. "You have very loyal friends."

Despite his embarrassment, Matthew nodded. "Yeah, I'm pretty lucky." He certainly hadn't felt all that lucky last spring, but it was still true. Even with his marriage falling apart, he'd had a safe place to run to and gather his wits about him. Over and over again the past year had shown him how much he had to be grateful for. "You don't need to be worried about Gill," Matthew added, lowing his hands to his lap so that he could see Ivan properly.

"Oh, no?" Ivan asked, but his tone was teasing. "He sounds serious."

"He is," Matthew affirmed, before a warm contented smile swept over his features, "but I trust you not to break my heart."

When Ivan spoke his voice was soft and sweet with affection. "I trust you too, Matvey." They smiled at each other through the screen, heedless of the miles, continents, and time zones that separated them. It wasn't quite a confession of love, but it didn't have to be. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

Alfred stared morosely out of the taxi window. He _still_ wasn't feeling all that well, but a persistent headache, dry mouth, and a general feeling of malaise were a hell of a lot better than perpetual vomiting and the risk of seizures. He _wanted_ to rest his head against the window but A) taxi's weren't the most hygienic of places, and B) that would only magnify the rhythmic bumping of the taxi and make his headache worse.

Arthur, who was sitting in the middle of the taxi's bench seat, gently took Alfred's hand in his, and Alfred allowed it with a fleeting smile. He was grateful for Arthur and Francis' help, especially considering he'd had to leave the detoxification unit in the scrubs he'd been issued; even after they'd been washed, the ratty pajamas he'd been brought in wearing hadn't been fit to be seen out in public...

Alfred understood his parent's concern, but he was adamant about not being babysat. He'd gotten into his own mess, and he could get out of it by himself. And he _really_ didn't want them seeing the state of his apartment...

The taxi pulled up outside Alfred's building, and Alfred slid out, followed by Arthur. Francis, who'd been sitting pressed against the opposite window in the back, opened his door, stepped out, and paid the driver. Alfred frowned as he watched the driver pull away from the curb and back out into traffic. "I thought you guys were just dropping me off..."

"We are," Francis agreed, stepping up onto the sidewalk, and wrapping an arm around Arthur's waist.

"Is it alright if we walk you up to your door before we go?" Arthur asked; he was frowning apprehensively.

Alfred's frown deepened and he felt himself bristle in response to the request. They could have damn well asked him this at the hospital, or at least not sent the cab away before they'd asked. Now it felt like he _had_ to say yes... Were they going to find a way to force their way inside his place once they were upstairs? Alfred looked back and forth between them for a tense moment before letting out a long sigh. Honestly they had a right to be a bit pushy after everything they'd done for him. "Sure. But I don't want to draw this out. We all have our lives to get back to."

"Thank you, Alfred," Francis said with a brief nod in his direction.

Alfred stuck his hands in his pockets, nodded back, and turned to walk inside the building. Francis and Arthur followed silently beside him. It was the mid-afternoon so they didn't encounter any of Alfred's neighbors on their way up to his third story apartment. Francis and Arthur didn't try to make small talk either, which only agitated Alfred further. He _didn't_ want a lecture... Yeah, he might have deserved one, but a lecture wouldn't _fix_ anything, and Alfred had always preferred action to speeches.

They didn't linger in the halls, but they didn't rush either. As soon as they had reached door 315 Alfred spun around with a large, energetic grin. He really didn't have the energy to back up the gesture, but he hoped it would reassure Francis and Arthur. "Thanks again for all the help guys." Alfred tipped his head back once, gesturing to the door behind him. "This is me. Mission accomplished. I'm back home in one piece."

As usual, Francis and Arthur saw right through him.

"We're not trying to lay a trap here, Alfred," Arthur assured him.

"Oui," Francis agreed. "Our flight leaves tomorrow morning. We did not plan to overstay our welcome.

Alfred shoulders sagged slightly, and his smile faded. "It's not that you're not welcome guys, it's just..." Alfred glanced around and sighed. "I know this is serious. I need to take a look at this, and do something about it... But I need to do it in my own way, and in my own time."

Arthur stepped forward and grasped both of Alfred's hands in his. "As I recall we already had an argument about your independence, and, unless my memory fails me, it was an argument you won."

Alfred chuckled softly and gave Arthur's hands a squeeze. He hardly would've called the revolutionary war an argument, but he understood what Arthur was getting at.

"I never want to make you feel trapped again, poppet. I just want you to know that we're here for you. You can talk to us without worrying about inviting an invasion."

A small, genuine smile settled on Alfred's features, and he pulled Arthur in for a hug. "Thanks man. I'll give you a call once you're back home, let you know how I'm doing. How's that sound?"

Arthur's arms tightened around Alfred almost to the point of cutting off his air supply. "I'd really like that."

When Arthur stepped back, Alfred pulled Francis in for a hug as well, patting his back soundly a few times. "Thanks for the help, guys," Alfred murmured, pulling back. "I hope you have a good flight."

Francis and Arthur both nodded. "We'll call you when our plane lands," Arthur assured him.

"Welcome home, Alfred," Francis added, turning to go with a brief wave over his shoulder.

Alfred waved back, watching his parents retreating forms carefully. Only when they had actually entered the stairwell at the end of the hall did he turn around and face his own front door. He did his best to square his shoulder's and brace himself as he turned the key in the lock. He knew what a mess it was in there, but he could handle it. A little hard work never killed anyone.

Alfred pushed against the door and reached for the light switch in one movement. Once the lights were on he turned to face forward, and almost lost his footing entirely. Clutching the door and the door frame for support, Alfred stilled and scanned the room in front of him. It was...clean? Hell, it might just be cleaner than it ever had been. Every surface was swept and polished, and his belongings were neatly arranged on shelves or the coffee and side tables. His kitchen cabinets weren't see through, but Alfred suspected they held more clean dishes and cutlery than they'd housed in months. This was only the front living room/kitchen open area, but Alfred suspected the rest of the rooms had also been cleaned.

Alfred backpedaled into the hallway and looked towards the stairs, but Arthur and Francis hadn't reappeared. He hesitated for a moment, glancing at his apartment, then back at the stairs before taking off towards the stairwell, leaving his open front door swaying with his sudden movement.

"Guys!" Alfred called as he charged into and down the stairwell. "Arthur! Francis!" For a moment he'd thought they'd gone, but Alfred managed to catch up with them at the first floor landing. Arthur had completely turned around and looked as though he'd started climbing the steps again in response to Alfred's shouts. Alfred crashed into him, knocking them both back into Francis, who had also turned around.

Alfred pulled them both into a tight embrace, incidentally pulling all three of them to their knees. Arthur and Francis went without complaint, wrapping their arms around Alfred in tandem.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked, looking partly curious and partly smug.

"You cleaned my place!" Alfred retorted. It was part exclamation and part accusation. He even shoved lightly at Arthur's shoulder.

"Yes?" Arthur replied. "Is that a bad thing?"

"We only wanted to make it easier for you when you came home," Francis replied. "We really were on our way out."

Alfred nodded, pulling them both a little closer. "I know. I'm sorry, and thank you. I didn't really want you to see the place like that... It must have taken a lot of work."

"Oui," Francis agreed, "but we did not mind it."

"You deserve to be comfortable in your own home, Alfred" Arthur added, rubbing soothing circles into Alfred's back.

Alfred didn't trust himself to speak just then, so he burred his face in the crook where Arthur's shoulder met Francis'.

"Does this mean you're going to let us come upstairs?" Francis asked. "My offer to cook still stands. I promise we'll still go home in the morning."

Alfred let out a sound that was part chuckle, part sob and nodded. "Yeah, dinner sounds great."


	20. Hearts and Arrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan and Matthew continue their relationship.
> 
> Alfred tries to move forward with potentially disastrous results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: There are allusions to suicide/self-harm in this chapter. Please be safe.
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, subscribed to, and/or bookmarked this story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 20: Hearts and Arrows

 

 

Arthur chuckled softly to himself and turned the page of the novel he was reading. It had been a busy week, and Francis and he were spending a quiet evening at Arthur's London townhouse. Arthur could read very quickly, and was just about to turn the page again when Francis, who had been reading quietly beside him, shifted, pressing his torso heavily into Arthur's side.

Arthur grunted softly and turned to look at his husband, who seemed utterly engrossed in his book. "Excuse you," Arthur muttered, knowing Francis' attention was _anywhere_ but his book.

Francis idly pretended to finish scanning the page in front of him before he turned to look languidly at Arthur. "Excusez-moi pur quoi?"

"You know what for, Frog," Arthur replied, fighting the smile that wanted to break free. Instead he wriggled against Francis, trying to ease some of the pressure Francis was exerting on him. "I can barely breathe like this."

Francis smiled and eased his legs up onto the sofa, leaning back so that he was sprawled over Arthur's lap. "I take your breath away after all these years? Magnifique."

Despite Arthur's best efforts, a fond smile crept onto his face and he set the book he'd been reading down on the arm of the sofa. He should complain more, but Francis was smiling up at him, caressing his cheek then pulling him down for slow, sweet kiss.

The jolted apart a few moments later, disrupted by the shrill ring of Arthur's cell phone, which had been resting on the small side table adjacent to the sofa. Arthur craned his head to peer at the screen, then stiffened slightly.

"Cher?" Francis asked, gently lifting himself off Arthur's lap.

"It's Alfred," Arthur murmured, already reaching for his phone. He swiped to accept the call, then engaged speakerphone so Francis could hear as well. "Hello? Alfred?"

Alfred's voice came loud and jubilant through the speakers. "Hey Artie!"

"Alfred, it's good to hear from you." Arthur glanced at Francis, who reached out and squeezed his knee reassuringly. "How's your day going?" Alfred had called Arthur and Francis a few times since they'd been to visit him. It seemed like he was doing well, but as of yet he hadn't touched on any serious topics. Arthur was worried that Alfred might be trying to minimize what had happened, or ignore it, but he was also afraid to ask. It wasn't anything close to regular, but at least Alfred was talking to him now; he didn't want to risk that connection by pushing too hard.

"Great!" Arthur could hear Alfred's grin through the phone. "I'm a bit tired; been on the go since the early morning. I went jogging with Craig, and then I had some work to catch up on."

"Craig?" Arthur asked, shifting and sitting up a little straighter. "Who is Craig?"

"Oh, I met Craig at the meetings I've been going to. He's a big fitness buff," Alfred replied. Arthur could hear some of the background noise from Alfred's end of the call. Wherever he was, he must be someplace crowded.

"Meetings?" Arthur asked, glancing again at Francis.

This time Alfred's voice sounded a bit quieter, almost hesitant. "Yeah, that lady at the hospital gave be a list of some local Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. I've been going to a few different ones, trying to see what they're like, and I met Craig at one of them. We've been chatting a little and he's been inviting me to go jogging with him. This morning I took him up on it."

"That's wonderful, Alfred" Arthur replied.

Before Arthur could continue, Alfred's voice broke in again. "Thanks, dude! I think I might make a habit of it. Gotta keep my strength up right?"

"Oui," Francis agreed, "And you will probably sleep better, too."

"Hmm, Maybe," Alfred replied. "That'd be kind of nice actually."

Arthur worried his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before asking. "What do you think of the meetings, Alfred?"

The silence that followed was so long that Arthur worried he'd lost the call, or that Alfred had hung up. At last Alfred said, "They're not bad... some are pretty intense, but there are a lot of welcoming people too. I haven't decided if I'm going to keep going... I'm just taking it one day at a time."

"That's a good idea," Francis said, leaning gently into Arthur and putting his hand around Arthur's shoulders. "Today is all we have."

"That's what they tell me," Alfred agreed. There was a small pause before Alfred added. "I've been listening to some of the other stuff they say at these meetings... I think I want to try to apologize to Matthew. I've been kind of ignoring him for months now... and I don't think I was the best husband to him at the end there..." Alfred's voice dropped low , causing both Arthur and Francis to lean in to catch his next words. "Do you think he'd like that?"

Francis and Arthur shared a tense look before Arthur said, "Alfred, you know Matthew's been seeing Ivan, right?"

"No." Alfred's voice was still quiet, and it had taken on a tight edge. "I didn't, but I guess it's not a surprise. He'd been hanging out with Ivan a lot recently, right?" Alfred blew out a long, slow sigh. "Guys, I'm not trying to apologize to him so that I can get him back." Alfred's voice was so quiet now it was almost a murmur. "I hurt him... I don't think I can make that right, but I want to let him know I'm sorry."

"I think Matthew would like that, Alfred," Francis replied, leaning close to the phone and speaking softly into it.

"Yeah?" Alfred's volume picked up slightly and Arthur thought he might have been smiling again. "That's good. I want to apologize, but I don't want to make things worse, you know?"

An indistinct male voice broke into the call, and they could hear Alfred giving a muffled reply before his voice returned clearly. "Guys, we're about to get started. I've got to go."

"Thank you for calling, Alfred," Arthur said.

"Oui," Francis added, "Enjoy your meeting."

"Bye guys!"

"Goodbye!" Arthur and Francis chorused. When the call disconnected, Arthur set the phone back down on the side table and looked at Francis.

"It sounds like he is doing well," Francis observed.

"I hope so," Arthur replied, leaning into Francis' embrace. "I _really_ hope so."

 

~*~*~*~

 

"Ivan!" Matthew stretched his arm in the air and waved when he saw the familiar figure of his boyfriend in the throng of arriving passengers. Ivan's head lifted and his eyes found Matthew's almost immediately. He smiled and lifted his hand in greeting. Matthew grinned back at him and waited, mostly patiently, for Ivan to finish the long walk past the secure area.

At last Ivan stepped out of the flow of people and up to Matthew, who let out a small, surprised, "oof!" when he was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace that almost lifted him off the ground. "It's good to see you, Matvey," Ivan murmured.

"It's good to see you too, Ivan," Matthew replied, wrapping his arms around Ivan in turn. His voice was a bit wheezy from Ivan's tight grip, but he didn't ask to be let go. A moment later Ivan stepped back and Matthew was able to ask, "How was your flight?"

"Long," Ivan replied turning towards the exit and grasping Matthew's hand in his, "but it is over now. How is the weather?"

"It's snowing, but it's not a blizzard," Matthew replied, squeezing Ivan's hand lightly in his own. "We haven't had anything to rival your Christmas snowstorm."

"That was a powerful one," Ivan agreed.

In short order they made their way outside, stored Ivan's luggage in Matthew's car, and were on their way to Matthew's small cabin. It was mid-afternoon, but the light was already dim, reminiscent of twilight. The snow was accumulating slightly on the roads, but traffic was still moving along nicely.

"If it keeps snowing there might be enough on the ground for a snowball fight tomorrow," Ivan observed, scanning their surroundings as they turned off the main road and onto the smaller side street leading up to Matthew's cabin.

Matthew chuckled quietly. "I don't know, I think I might need reinforcements."

Ivan smiled over at Matthew. "You held your own well enough last time."

Matthew glanced sidelong at Ivan, then looked back to the road, still smiling. "Tell you what, if you promise not to turn it into a stealth snowball fight, I'll agree to build some snowmen tomorrow."

"Deal," Ivan agreed.

When Matthew pulled into his driveway he parked the car close to the cabin to minimize their walking distance. He turned off the ignition and slipped out of the car, walking around to the back. Ivan met him there just as Matthew popped the trunk open.

"Do you have any bags that aren't filled with bowling balls this time?" Matthew asked.

Ivan chuckled and lifted one of the smaller bags out towards Matthew. Matthew accepted it and slipped the strap over his shoulder. It was heavy, but not so heavy it threw Matthew off balance. Ivan lifted his other two bags out, and Matthew shut the trunk as they walked away from it.

They each paused on the covered porch to kick the worst of the snow from their boots before stepping inside. Kumajiro, who was curled into a neat little ball by the fireplace, lifted his head in lazy greeting as they entered. Ivan started towards the guest room where he had stayed last time, but paused and looked back when he felt Matthew's hand on his arm.

"You can keep your things in my bedroom," Matthew said, a light blush staining his cheeks. "I mean, if you want to."

Ivan turned the rest of the way around and leaned in to place a short, sweet kiss against Matthew's lips. "I'd like that."

They smiled at each other for a brief moment before Matthew turned and led the way upstairs. "Watch your head," he warned, "the ceiling is close to the roof, so it's a bit slanted."

The stairs had one landing, then a sharp right turn for the last three steps up into Matthew's loft style bedroom. The room ran the length of the house, but was narrower, and the sides of both ceilings sloped down sharply, leveling off at waist height. In the center of the room it was barely noticeable, but if one walked too close to the edges, they risked a bump on the head. Matthew's hand lifted instinctually as he walked back towards the bed, brushing along the ceiling and keeping his head well away from it. Matthew only had to stoop when he neared the old wooden dresser pushed into the corner opposite the bed. Ivan made a point to stay close to the center of the room.

"There's a big closet just across from the stairs," Matthew said, pointing back the way they'd come, "and two drawers on the left here are empty," Matthew gestured to the dresser beside him before turning back to Ivan. "I didn't empty them out specifically or anything, I'm just particular about my clothes, so there's always a little room."

Ivan set his bags down close beside the dresser where Matthew had set the one he was carrying. "Thank you, Matvey."

Matthew smiled up at him. "You're welcome. I'm glad you could come."

Ivan stepped close to Matthew and leaned down for a kiss, his arms encircling Matthew's shoulders to keep him there. Matthew leaned up into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Ivan's waist, humming softly in satisfaction. He felt Ivan's tongue nudging against his lips and parted them, sliding his tongue along Ivan's in a sensual dance. Matthew felt Ivan press against him, nudging him back to the bed.

Matthew pulled back just enough to murmur, "Your bags?"

"Leave them," Ivan replied, drawing Matthew back for another kiss. Matthew responded to the pressure of Ivan's body against his, turning them until Ivan sat down on the edge of the bed. Ivan pulled Matthew close, and Matthew settled himself precariously on Ivan's lap, his legs pressed tightly against Ivan's hips as he straddled him.

Ivan trailed his hands along the clothed lines of Matthew's back before delving under the back of his jeans, squeezing the rounded flesh he encountered there. Matthew moaned softly and rocked against Ivan in response, tightening his fingers in the fabric of Ivan's coat.

Ivan broke away from Matthew's lips, nibbling his way over Matthew's jaw to his neck. Matthew tightened the grip his legs had on Ivan and used the leverage of Ivan's hands supporting him to divest himself of his coat and hoodie in two short movements. Ivan responded by dipping his head lower and closing his mouth over one of Matthew's nipples. Matthew gasped and clutched at the back of Ivan's head, keeping him there. He felt the scrape of Ivan's teeth against his sensitive skin a moment later and bucked against him again.

"Missed me, Matvey?" Ivan purred, rocking his hips up into Matthew's pliant body.

"Yes," Matthew breathed, pressing a few short kisses to Ivan's lips. "Missed you, missed your company.

Ivan smiled and traced Matthew's kiss swollen lips with the pad of his thumb before pressing his lips back against the heated skin his fingers had just transversed.

Matthew's fingers fought with the buttons of Ivan's coat and the shirt underneath them, pulling the fabric off his shoulders before carefully unwinding his scarf. Ivan watched Matthew with hungry eyes, holding him secure on his lap and pulling him close for another kiss as soon as his scarf was safely on the bedside table.

Slowly Matthew slid his legs off Ivan's hips and pressed his feet back into the floor. Ivan started inching back onto the bed, but Matthew's hands on his hips gave him pause.

"Stay there," Matthew murmured against Ivan's lips as he pulled back. Matthew stood, toed off his boots, and sank to his knees at Ivan's feet.  Matthew kept his eyes locked on Ivan's as he slowly undid the belt at Ivan's hips, and pulled it free. Matthew's fingers deftly undid the button and zipper of Ivan's trousers, then they ghosted over his underwear, lightly palming him.

Ivan pressed himself into Matthew's hand and Matthew smirked up at him, easing Ivan's member out of his underwear, and licking a broad wet stripe over the sensitive glands near the head. Ivan parted his lips and gasped slightly as Matthew took him into his mouth, bobbing his head slowly and gliding his tongue firmly along the underside of Ivan's cock. Ivan's fingers tightened in the fabric of the bed sheets as one of Matthew's hands lightly cupped his balls through his underwear, his longest finger pressing gently into Ivan's perineum.

"Matvey," Ivan breathed, trembling with the effort not to buck into Matthew's mouth.

Matthew pulled back and murmured his next words so close to Ivan's skin that Ivan could _feel_ them vibrating against him. "You can put your hands on me or in my hair if you want; I don't mind."

Ivan jerkily shook his head no; he didn't trust himself at that moment, and it was taking all his concentration not to move his hips. He watched as Matthew bent towards him again; their eyes remained locked as Matthew worked his tongue over the shaft before taking Ivan's cock into his mouth once more.

A few minutes more and Ivan did move, pushing his hands against Matthew's shoulders, easing him back. Matthew's mouth came away with a wet smacking sound. Matthew's cheeks were flushed and his lips were parted, drawing in breath. Ivan eased to his knees on the floor in front of Matthew and pulled Matthew up into a desperate kiss, pressing his lips into Matthew's swollen ones, his tongue darting out to explore the dark moist cavern of Matthew's mouth.

Ivan pressed himself against Matthew and they eased back onto the area rug covering the floor by Matthew's bed scrabbling to divest themselves and each other of their remaining clothing.

"Ivan!" Matthew gasped as Ivan broke away from his mouth to press wet, sucking kisses to the side of his neck.

"Lube?" Ivan asked, watching goose-bumps rise along Matthew's skin as his breath moved across it.

"Bedside drawer," Matthew breathed.

Ivan leaned up on his knees and reached back to retrieve the bottle, keeping his eyes locked on Matthew's hungry ones. Matthew licked his lips and leaned up to take Ivan's cock in hand, stroking gently. Ivan grunted and pressed himself back against Matthew, captured his kiss-swollen lips and eased him back onto the floor. Before Matthew was properly settled, Ivan broke away from the kiss and murmured, "Turn around."

Matthew shivered at the low tone of Ivan's voice and moved so that he was on his stomach, his knees slightly under him and his backside lifted to press against Ivan. Ivan rocked against Matthew, wrapping one arm around his waist to hold him in place, and pressing biting kisses to the back of his neck.

Matthew heard the snap of the lube being opened, but he still jumped when he felt Ivan's hand move low over his backside towards his entrance.

"Okay, Matvey?" Ivan asked, stilling his movements.

Matthew nodded. "Yes, I'm good. It's just intense, not being able to see you." Matthew craned his neck over his shoulder and leaned up for a kiss, a gesture Ivan was happy to oblige. When they parted Matthew whispered, "Don't stop."

Ivan smiled, pressed another short kiss to Matthew's lips, then moved his hand lower between Matthew's legs, his fingers nudging at Matthew's entrance.

Matthew moaned softly and pushed back against Ivan as he felt the first finger enter him. He was eager, but Ivan wouldn't be rushed, moving his finger insistently along the tight walls of muscle before finally adding a second. Matthew leaned down, pressing his shoulders into the floor and lifting his hips up, rocking against Ivan's fingers.

Matthew gasped in protest when Ivan briefly paused to spread more lube on his fingers before pressing them back inside Matthew's hot ring of muscle. Ivan's free hand curled around Matthew's hip and his fingers brushed Matthew's stiff and leaking cock.

"Don't," Matthew warned, his voice breathless. "Not yet."

Ivan settled his free hand on the floor instead and leaned over Matthews back, kissing and biting as he pressed a third finger inside. Matthew yelped the moaned loudly as Ivan's fingers brushed his prostate. "Ivan, please."

Ivan nipped lightly at Matthew's shoulder blade and thrust his fingers roughly inside Matthew causing Matthew to groan and scrabble for purchase in the fibers of the rug.

At last Ivan withdrew his fingers and Matthew felt the head of Ivan's cock pressing at his entrance. Ivan entered him gently, pressing his torso close along Matthew's back and holding him with an arm securely around Matthew's waist.

Matthew bucked against the intrusion, throwing his head up and back against Ivan's shoulder. Ivan pressed a kiss into the shell of Matthew's ear. "Fuck, Matvey," he murmured, his voice low and gravely with desire.

Matthew gasped a chuckle and pressed back against Ivan's movements in earnest. "Yes, please." Ivan's sounds of pleasure echoed in Matthew's ears causing him to shiver and moan in response.

Ivan thrust forcefully inside Matthew just as his fingers closed around Matthew's cock, which was stiff and leaking with desire. Matthew cried out and bucked sharply against Ivan, lifting his torso and rising up on his knees as Ivan moved in him from behind. Ivan's other arm remained wrapped around Matthew like a steel band, keeping them close together. Skin slid over skin, slick and feverish as they moved against each other.

"Ivan, ah!" Matthew felt his whole body stiffen and grow tense, his core tightened and white hot pleasure pooled in his abdomen. Matthew's nails bit into the skin of Ivan's arm as he came with a soundless cry. His body shuddered in Ivan's arms while Ivan too, found release.

For a moment they were still, then Ivan, with shaking limbs, eased them onto their sides on the floor and cuddled close to Matthew. "Did we mess up your rug?" Ivan gasped, his breath still coming in pants.

Matthew let out a breathy chuckle. "No, I think I hit my pants. I'll have to throw them in the wash."

"Later," Ivan replied, hooking his leg over Matthew's hip, locking him in place.

Matthew sighed softly and turned a bit in Ivan's arms, drawing Ivan down for a long, slow kiss. When they parted their eyes met and Matthew smiled fondly up at Ivan. "I love you," he breathed, flushing immediately after the words left his mouth, as if he only just realized what he'd said.

Ivan smiled and pressed a short, sweet kiss to Matthew's lips. "I love you too, Matvey." His arms tightened their hold on Matthew for a moment, pulling him closer. "Ya lyublyu tebya."

Matthew smiled and pressed his forehead close against Ivan's, savoring the moment. Soon enough they would have to get up, clean themselves, and see about dinner, but for the moment, all of that could wait.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Several hours later, after the luggage had been put away, dinner had been had, and they'd shared a luxurious half hour in the large soaker tub of Matthew's ensuite bathroom, Matthew and Ivan lay tangled under the covers of Matthew's bed. They weren't quite ready to sleep exactly, but they were definitely winding down. Ivan lay propped up against the pillows and headboard while Matthew nestled between his legs, his hands splayed and his head pillowed against Ivan's chest. Ivan's arms were wound around Matthew and his fingers trailed along the skin of Matthew's back, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

Matthew shifted slightly, peering up at Ivan's relaxed face. "Ivan?"

Ivan looked back at Matthew with a small smile. "Da?"

"Would you like to share a room during the next world conference?" Matthew asked, his fingers sweeping nervously across Ivan's chest.

Ivan leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Matthew's lips before replying, "Da, I would like that very much."

"Me too." Matthew smiled back at Ivan before nestling his head against Ivan's chest once more. He let out a long, slow, sigh, and closed his eyes.

Matthew's phone trilled loudly from its place on the bedside table. Matthew grimaced and started pushing himself into a sitting position.

"Ignore it," Ivan prompted, but Matthew shook his head.

"I have it set only to sound for certain alerts. It's not fool proof, but I should at least check to see if it's important."

Ivan grumbled softly in protest, but allowed Matthew to wriggle around in his embrace and lean over the side of the bed to retrieve his phone. As consolation to both of them, Matthew nestled back against Ivan while he unlocked the phone. It was an e-mail that had set off the alert. With a small sigh Matthew opened his message screen, and then frowned.

"What is it?" Ivan asked, his arms coming to encircle Matthew once more.

"I have an e-mail from _Alfred_ ," Matthew explained, tapping on the screen to open the message. He hoped it wasn't serious. He'd left alerts on for messages from Alfred only because he hadn't spoken to him on a personal level since that night in Paris last spring, and the hostile messages that Alfred had sent him after that night hadn't continued. Matthew assumed that Alfred would eventually start talking to him again, at least on a political level, thought it might take an emergency, hence the active notifications.

Matthew's entire body stiffened as he read the e-mail. Ivan leaned close over his shoulder to read along with him. Matthew didn't protest; his mind was too busy recoiling from what it saw on the screen.

_**From:** _ _Alfred F Jones_

_**Sent:** _ _Wednesday, February 14_ _th_ _, 11:30pm EST._

_**To:** _ _Matthew Williams_

_**Subject:** _ _It kills me..._

_It kills me thinking about what I did to you Mattie. I read your letter. I know you never meant to send it. I think Arthur must have picked it out of your trash when you were staying with him and Francis in Paris._

_Christ Mattie, I am_ _**so** _ _sorry._

_I went with a friend to this film festival last week and this one line really resonated with me. The main character says to her best friend about her girlfriend, "She doesn't beat me." You know what the best friend says back? "She doesn't_ _**have** _ _to."_

_I've always thought of myself as a strong person, Mattie, but I really fucked things up, huh? I left you_ _**alone** _ _all the time, I shot down most of the things you wanted to do, and I foisted off_ _**all** _ _the day to day responsibilities onto you._

_Now that I can finally look back at it with a clear head, I've been in a downhill spiral for a long time, haven't I? I remember you tried to tell me, tried to talk to me so many times, and I just wouldn't listen…_

_I have to stop it, Mattie. I_ _**can't** _ _let this continue. One way or another I have to stop it… I have to_ _**make** _ _it end._

The e-mail wasn't signed, and for some reason Matthew found that to be the most chilling thing of all. The e-mail was supposed to be an apology, apparently, but a part of Matthew couldn't help but wonder if it portended something more. Alfred seemed so unhappy and desperate…

Matthew had never before considered that Alfred would hurt himself. It wasn't something most personified nations thought about. It wasn't unheard of, however. There had been several cases throughout history of a personified nation reforming because their predecessor had taken their own life. But of all personified nations, Alfred would be the last to ever do something that drastic…right?


	21. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change isn't easy. Sometimes you take two steps forward and fall flat on your face. What matters is what you do next, if you able to dust yourself off and keep moving forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: There are allusions to suicide/self-harm in this chapter. Please be safe.
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, subscribed to, and/or bookmarked my story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 21: Shattered

 

"You should call him."

Ivan's voice was calm and even, but it still felt jarring to Matthew's ears. He glanced over his shoulder at Ivan, his lips a thin, tight line of concern. Ivan nodded towards the phone in Matthew's hand and squeezed his arms gently. Matthew turned his attention back to the phone and, with trembling fingers, he hit the call button.

The phone rang once... twice... three times. Matthew's stomach clenched and he silently prayed he wouldn't be transferred to voicemail.

"Mattie?" Alfred's voice was soft, almost hopeful.

Matthew's grip on the phone tightened. "Alfred, are you alright?!"

"Yeah, why?"

Matthew's hands dropped to his lap and he sagged slightly in Ivan's arms, releasing the breath he'd been holding. Then he stiffened and brought the phone back up to his face. "What the _hell_ were you thinking sending that e-mail?!"

"Mattie?"

"Jesus Christ, Alfred! ...Are you suicidal?"

"No! No, no, no, no no. _What_ made you think that?!"

" _It_ _ **kills**_ _me_! _**That**_ was the title of your e-mail! Then you go on and on about how it has to stop, about how you're going to _make_ it stop. What the hell else was I supposed to think?!" Matthew waited, but the other side of the call had gone silent. So silent, in fact that he pulled the phone back and peered at the screen to make sure the call hadn't been dropped. "Alfred?"

"I'm here," Alfred assured him quickly. "I'm here…" Matthew heard Alfred mutter a curse under his breath, then draw in a gulping lungful of air. "I'm sorry, Mattie."

"You're _sorry_?!" Matthew knew he was just about screaming into the phone now, and he didn't care.

"Look, look," Alfred began, "I know that doesn't fix it, I _know_ … but I am sorry, Mattie… _Fuck_ , this was the last thing I wanted to do... I've just made things worse haven't I?"

"Where are you, Alfred?" Matthew's voice was hard and flat. He couldn't remember _ever_ being so angry with Alfred. Even so, he wanted to know for sure that Alfred really was alright.

"I'm in D.C. …why?"

"Because this is the kind of conversation we should be having face to face," Matthew replied covering his face with one hand, trying to get a handle on his emotions.

"Right." Matthew could hear some sort of shuffling or objects being moved around on the other end of the line. "Where are you? Wait, don't answer that. Stupid question. You're in Ottawa, aren't you?"

"Yes," Matthew replied, his voice somewhat strained. He didn't _really_ want to disrupt his time with Ivan, but what could he do? He needed to _see_ that Alfred was okay. They might be nothing to each other now but almost-strangers; even so, Matthew couldn't make himself indifferent to the thought of Alfred in danger.

"Alright…" There was a pause, more shuffling. "I'll meet you tomorrow morning. Say…10:00am? We can meet wherever you want to; I'll be there."

Matthew blinked and stared at the phone questioningly. "…What?"

"I said I'll meet you, tomorrow, 10:00am; just name the place and I'm there," Alfred replied. His voice sounded vaguely pressured, like he was trying, and failing, to calm himself down as well.

Matthew hesitated, glancing back at Ivan again before asking, "…Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mattie," Alfred replied, his voice rushed and strained. "I'm positive."

Matthew thought for a moment. He didn't _really_ want Alfred to come to the house; it would stir up too many memories he didn't want to deal with. Not that those memories weren't already stirred, but having Alfred _here_ would only make it worse…

"Mattie?"

"I'm here. Listen, Alfred, do you remember the trails around my cabin _at all_?"

"A bit." Alfred's voice sounded too tentative for Matthew's liking.

Matthew blew out a frustrated breath. "Do you remember the Old Quarry Trail?"

"…That's the one with that long boardwalk, right?" Alfred asked.

"Yes, exactly," Matthew breathed, somewhat relieved. "Can you meet me there by the footbridge that crosses near the lake?" Matthew knew that he could get to this trail pretty easily. He wouldn't need to drive if he gave himself enough time, but it also allowed a healthy distance between his home and where he would meet Alfred.

"I'll be there," Alfred promised.

"You'd _better_ be," Matthew retorted, then flinched at his own tone. He didn't want to turn this into a fight. He didn't want this to be a _thing_ at all. He'd thought his personal dealings with Alfred were _done_ … but he didn't want Alfred to come to harm either, and right now he was more than a little worried about him.

"Goodnight, Mattie." Alfred's voice was quiet again and Matthew knew from experience he wore a kicked-puppy expression. There was a time when that alone would have evoked at least some sympathy...but those times were _over_.

"Goodnight," Matthew replied, pressing the button to end the call and sagging back against Ivan's chest in an unhappy heap.

Ivan rubbed his hands up and down Matthew's arms consolingly, just letting him be for several long minutes.

"I'm sorry," Matthew murmured at last, turning his head to face Ivan.

"This was not something you could have foreseen," Ivan reminded him. "It's natural that you would be concerned. This isn't like Alfred."

Matthew sighed and closed his eyes. He felt Ivan shift and press a kiss into his temple, which pulled the ghost of a smile from him.

"Let's go downstairs and watch a movie or something," Ivan suggested. "You need to think about something else."

Matthew grumbled softly, but he didn't really protest. Ivan was right, he sure as hell wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon. With a reluctant huff he pushed himself into a sitting position and began climbing over Ivan's legs so that he could get out of the bed. "We need to get dressed first," he insisted. "Kuma might not care, but I do."

"As you wish," Ivan replied softly, his eyes flashing with momentary amusement. He stood and slipped into the sleepwear he'd discarded when they'd come back upstairs after dinner. When he looked to Matthew, the Canadian was grumpily adjusting a large red hoodie over his thin frame. Ivan stepped close to Matthew and waited until Matthew lifted his gaze before placing his hands on Matthew's shoulders and bending down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"I'll be there, if you want me to be," Ivan murmured, leaning back to meet Matthew's eyes once more.

Matthew lifted his arms to grasp Ivan's and squeezed meaningfully. "I'd really like that."

"It's settled, then," Ivan replied, sliding an arm around Matthew's shoulder and leading him towards the stairs. He hoped he could convince Matthew to sleep, but he knew it wouldn't be soon, and what sleep they both managed, wouldn't be restful.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The snow was dry and powdery underfoot as Ivan and Matthew hiked the series of trails and roads that would bring them to his meeting place with Alfred. Kuma had been left at home; neither Matthew nor Ivan wanted any distractions.

Ivan had offered to drive them closer to the meeting point, but Matthew had wanted to walk. Despite the few hours of sleep he managed to get, he'd been restless and barely touched his breakfast. Currently Matthew was plodding angrily along in front of Ivan, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his hands wedged under his arms. They were both dressed appropriately for the weather and were warm and dry beneath their clothes; it was emotional protection Matthew was seeking, and it _wasn't_ working.

Frowning, Ivan quickened his step to match Matthew's almost-jog until he was back alongside him. Matthew glanced up and came to an abrupt stop as Ivan settled a hand on his right shoulder. Ivan didn't speak; he just ran his hand along Matthew's arm until he gripped Matthew's hand in his. Ivan lifted their joined hands, slowly removed Matthew's glove, and slid Matthew's right hand alongside his left in his own, larger glove. Ivan preferred oversized gloves so it was a snug fit, but not uncomfortable, and well worth the comfort it seemed to bring Matthew. Ivan could see the tension bleed from Matthew's posture. Matthew's fingers curled around his and the ghost of a smile flickered across his face before he resumed his forward march at a more reasonable pace.

They walked silently through the quiet snowscape around them, picking their way across bridges and curves in the trail. If not for the pall that seemed to hang over the morning, it would have been a pleasant walk. Matthew did his best to focus on the warmth of Ivan's hand against his own, and tried to keep his breathing even. The only way past today was through it, and Matthew wasn't about to shy away from what needed to be done.

As they rounded the final curve in the trail leading up to the bridge where the meeting was set, a familiar patch of blond hair came into view. Matthew stilled and stiffened, only dimly aware of Ivan's presence alongside him.

Alfred was already there waiting for him.

Alfred, who had been leaning against the railing of the bridge, staring morosely into the water beneath, turned and looked over at them. For a moment his features seemed to brighten just a bit, and then a tight, pained expression settled over his features and stayed there. He shifted, stuffed his gloved hands into the pockets of his jeans, and stood, facing Matthew and Ivan, but did not approach them.

Matthew glanced at Ivan and slowly slid his hand out of Ivan's glove. "Wait here for me?"

Ivan nodded and solemnly passed Matthew his glove. Matthew smiled gently and slipped his glove back on before turning and facing Alfred once more, walking towards him without any further hesitation. When they were about five feet apart Matthew stilled and came to a stop, fighting the urge to shove his hands in his pockets. "You look tired."

Alfred's expression turned sheepish and he looked away for a moment. "Yeah, sorry. It's a long drive from D.C."

"You drove?" Matthew asked, frowning slightly.

Alfred nodded. "I could have tried for an early morning flight but I was nervous about delays. I wanted to make sure I would be here... I'm _so_ sorry I scared you, Mattie."

It was Matthew's turn to look away. He wasn't thrilled about it, but he had been scared, very scared. Even after _everything_ that had happened between them, he would be devastated if Alfred hurt himself. They were living different lives now, but he still wanted Alfred to be safe and happy.

Matthew forced himself to look up into Alfred's clear blue eyes. He really did look _stricken_. "I am too," he murmured. "Maybe I was jumping at shadows, but for a moment it sounded like—" Matthew broke off and looked away swallowing hard. "Are you _sure_ you're okay?"

"I won't hurt myself, Mattie. I _promise_." Alfred spoke very softly, and Matthew thought he sounded sincere. Gravel shifted under Alfred's foot. "I read over my e-mail after you called, and again when I stopped for fuel, and after I parked… you're right, it didn't paint the best picture of my mental state. I'm sorry…and thank you for checking on me."

Alfred's thanks were so unexpected that Matthew turned his head automatically; locking eyes with Alfred. Alfred's expression was still sad, pained, but Matthew also thought he might have seen gratitude in it, maybe even humility.

"It was a stupid thing to do, Mattie. I shouldn't have e-mailed you so late, and I should have thought more about my words." Alfred raked a hand through his hair and glanced down for a moment. "Maybe I should've had my sponsor read it…"

"Sponsor?"

Alfred nodded and lifted his gaze back to Matthew's. "Yeah. I've been…" Alfred drew in a deep breath, which became a sigh. "I've been talking to some people, getting some help for my drinking. I've been talking off and on with someone I know from those meetings. He's not really my sponsor, but I've been thinking about asking him."

"That's very brave of you, Al. I'm glad you're getting some help." Matthew's voice was even and measured as he spoke. He was glad for Alfred, he really was, but he also couldn't help the resentment swelling up inside his chest. He _hated_ that Alfred had let it get this far, hated that he hadn't listened to any of Matthew's _many_ suggestions to cut back on his drinking in the year leading up to their marriage, and the almost year after. Most of all he hated the fact that Alfred was butting back into his life _now_ , after Matthew had worked so hard to let him go. Matthew knew his resentments wouldn't help anyone, however, and now wasn't the time to give voice to them. He knew Ivan was only forty yards behind him and that, if Matthew wanted to talk when this whole thing was over, Ivan would readily spend the rest of the day listening.

Alfred blew out a sharp breath and shook his head again. "Even my timing's really shitty. I didn't think about that at all."

Just for a moment, Matthew saw Alfred's eyes flicker to Ivan. "I'm sorry for interrupting your time together."

Matthew glanced behind him at Ivan, then back at Alfred.

"I _know_ your relationships are none of my business," Alfred continued. "I know that. I'm just, I'm glad you're happy, and I know how hard it can be to get time alone together…" Alfred looked down at his feet again. "I'm sorry Mattie. I'm sorry for everything. I wasn't trying to _do_ anything here, I didn't have a goal. I just…" Hesitantly Alfred lifted his eyes to Matthew's. "Don't hate me?"

Matthew's lips parted and his jaw twitched ineffectually. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't still angry; he was furious. A big part of him wanted to turn around and walk away, give Alfred a small part of what he'd had to deal with so many times…

" _I will confess to everything, demand the highest sentence. It is not enough, but it is all I can offer."_

Ivan's long ago words returned to Matthew, unbidden. He hadn't been able to see Ivan's face then, crouched in the narrow alley he'd been stuck in, but Ivan's voice had been edged with pain and contrition. Matthew could see those same emotions reflected powerfully in Alfred's eyes.

"I don't hate you."

Matthew's voice had barely been above a whisper, but Alfred must have heard him, because shoulders slumped in relief almost instantly and he replied, "Thank you, Mattie."

Silence stretched between them, long and thin. At length Matthew broke it by saying, "Does this mean you're going to start coming to our meetings at the world conferences?"

Alfred nodded quickly, his expression tight and pinched, like he might cry. "Yes," Alfred replied his voice almost a wheeze as it escaped him. "Yes, I'll be there. I'm sorry for skipping out on them this past year."

"Okay," Matthew replied, sticking his hands into the pockets of his coat at last. "I'll see you in a few weeks, then."

"See you in a few weeks," Alfred replied with a deep nod.

Matthew hesitated for a few moments before adding, "Have a safe trip home, Al."

Alfred nodded again, his expression relaxing slightly. "You too, Mattie."

Matthew turned and started back towards Ivan. He glanced back once, just in time to see Alfred lift a hand to wave at him, before Alfred turned and presumably headed back the way he had come.

Ivan turned and walked back with Matthew, reaching out to grasp Matthew's hand with his own, intertwining their fingers as they went. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Matthew made a face, and then blew out a long breath of air. "He just wanted to apologize for what happened between us. I'm still furious with him, but he seems genuinely sorry to have scared me." Matthew glanced up and found Ivan looking back at him. He doubted the parallels of Ivan's talk with Toris and his own talk just now with Alfred were lost on either of them. Matthew gave Ivan's hand a squeeze and looked forward again. "I didn't want to fight with him."

Ivan nodded. "That would not be good for either of you."

A long, but not uncomfortable silence stretched between them, each lost in their own thoughts. At length Matthew resurfaced and added, "He says he's going to support groups, trying to work on his drinking…" Matthew's voice dropped low with concern. "I think it got really bad after I left."

"Alfred is responsible for his own actions," Ivan murmured, squeezing Matthew's hand gently.

"I know that," Matthew replied, looking back up at Ivan. "I just feel bad for him."

"You have a big heart," Ivan observed, pulling Matthew closer so that he could wrap his arm around Matthew's waist. "It is good that Alfred is reaching out. Alexi visited my home in Moscow every day when I first stopped drinking. He only stopped when I agreed to visit him. It was not easy, but it helped."

"I'm glad." Matthew leaned slightly against Ivan as they walked, his arm around Ivan's waist as well.

It was a long walk back to Matthew's cabin, but Ivan hoped it would tire them both out and he might be able to convince Matthew to take a nap. It had been a difficult morning, and they both needed the rest.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Alfred was being weird.

Granted Alfred had always been a bit eccentric, but his behavior over the last few weeks had been odd, even for him.

It had all started with an e-mail.

_From: Alfred F. Jones_

_To: Matthew Williams_

_Sent: Wednesday, February 28_ _th_ _4:34pm_

_Subject: World Conference_

_Dear Matthew,_

_First I want to thank you again for meeting with me earlier this month, and apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused you._

_I have also been thinking about the upcoming world conference and would like to propose the attached list of topics. I understand that my negligence has created difficulties for both our people as well as yourself, and for that I must again apologize. I would be happy to draw up a proposed meeting agenda based on the topics you feel require the most immediate attention. For any topics we cannot attend to at the World Conference, I will make room in my schedule to meet with you, either virtually, or in person, at your convenience, before or after the World Conference._

_Thank you for your time and consideration in this matter,_

_Sincerely,_

_Alfred_

Matthew had sat and stared at the screen for a long time after receiving that e-mail. He might have showed it to Ivan if his visit hadn't come to an end three days ago. The letter was oddly formal, and excessively apologetic, both of which were red flags. It wasn't that Alfred lacked the skills necessary to be formal or considerate, but he and Matthew hadn't stood on ceremony with each other in over a century, not since their fight over the Revolutionary War.

There wasn't anything Alfred and Matthew had to discuss that would really put either of their people at a disadvantage, regardless of how it worked out. Even so, Alfred had always staunchly defended his people, and tried to get the best for them, as far as it was in his power to do so. The over-conciliatory tone of his e-mail showed none of that fierce pride or fighting spirit.

Matthew was slightly mollified when he opened the attached list of topics and found Alfred had made notations on his thoughts and preferences based on the needs of his people. He perused the list, typed up a quick reply, and sent it off. From that moment on, communication between Alfred and Matthew was re-established. There was some continued awkwardness, Matthew felt, but that was to be expected considering everything that had passed between them. This was part of the process of establishing a new normal. With time and repetition it wouldn't seem so strange.

Then the texting started.

_I hope you have a great day today._

_I heard a bad storm moved through Ottawa last night. Are you okay? I hope you didn't lose power._

_I asked my friend to be my sponsor, officially. I was rushing things before. I'm going to try to work on that._

The texts were never anything too serious or personal. They were a mix of encouragement, news, loose associations, and concern. Matthew never had any trouble formulating a polite and succinct reply, but he wasn't quite sure how to feel about them. They weren't so frequent as to be a nuisance, and they weren't so intrusive as to make him uncomfortable, but there was a stilted, frantic energy about them that was concerning.

Next was an impromptu phone call about the texts, just two days before the spring world conference. Matthew had picked up his phone and stared at it for two rings before finally answering it.

"Hello?" He knew it was Alfred, the caller ID had made that perfectly clear. What he couldn't understand was why Alfred was calling _now_.

"Hey, Mattie. Are you busy?" There was a brief pause before Alfred added, "Is now a good time to talk, I mean? I know you've got a busy schedule."

"I can talk now," Matthew assured him. "What's up?"

"Well I was speaking to Roger, that's my sponsor, and I mentioned that I'd been texting you here and there, trying to reconnect, and he said you might find that oppressive? That's not what I'm trying to do, at all, and I just…wanted to check in with you…about that."

Matthew pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it, but the caller ID hadn't changed. He pressed the phone back to his ear and tried to think of a response. "The texts aren't bothering me…" Matthew began, trailing off as he tried to think of how to express his feelings.

"But they're weird, aren't they?"

Matthew let out a short, slightly exasperated sigh. "Alfred, you've always been a little weird, it's part of your charm."

Alfred chuckled softly on the other end of the line, then he sobered. "I know I said all I wanted was for you not to hate me… but that's not true. I mean, I know you're with Ivan now, and that's none of my business, and that's not even what I'm asking for…" Alfred trailed off for a moment. "I just miss talking with you, Mattie. I know that's more than I should ask for, way more, and I'll stop the texts, if you want me to. It's totally your call."

Despite all the anger and frustration that had filled Matthew when he'd stood face to face with Alfred, he felt no urge to push him away now. "I don't mind the texts Alfred."

"Really?" Alfred was probably trying to suppress the vulnerability and hopefulness that rang so clearly in his voice.

"Really," Matthew assured him. "I'm just a little worried about you. You don't seem quite yourself."

Alfred let out a short, sharp laugh devoid of humor. "I don't think I've been the best person recently, not for a long time really. That needs to change. I'm still…figuring things out."

"That's a big process," Matthew agreed. "Look, as long as you don't wake me up with texts, feel free to keep sending them."

Alfred chuckled again. "Yeah, not a problem. I've lived with you, remember? I like living."

"I'm not _that_ bad in the mornings," Matthew insisted, but the smile curling on his lips utterly belied his words."

"Mattie, anyone who wakes you up early is going to get destroyed. It's worse than the nuclear option."

Now Matthew did laugh, and Alfred laughed too. For that brief moment things felt more in line with how they should be.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The next time Matthew saw Alfred, he and Ivan were just leaving the dining room of the hotel, intending to make their way to the large meeting hall for the 9:00am all nations meeting. Alfred jogged up to them, holding a tall coffee cup in one hand.

"Hey, Mattie, hey Ivan," he greeted them each in turn. "How's your morning going?" Perhaps Alfred had meant to address them both, but his gaze was directed solely, and intensely, on Matthew.

"Alright," Matthew replied with a placid smile. In truth he didn't feel properly awake yet, but that was mostly his own fault…and Ivan's. "How are you?"

"I'm good." Alfred grinned at him. "I got you some coffee. I know you don't like the early morning meetings."

Alfred thrust the coffee out towards Matthew who accepted it with a polite, "Thank you." He didn't really want any more coffee yet, having just finished breakfast, but he didn't want to be rude. He lifted the cup to his lips and, after blowing on it to cool some of the liquid inside, took a tentative sip. It was bitter, _very_ bitter. Matthew fought the urge to scrunch up his face and swallowed the hot liquid. He had no intention of drinking anymore, but did appreciate the thought.

"Are you headed to the first meeting?" Alfred asked, looking from Matthew to Ivan and back again, looking very much like an eager puppy.

"Yes," Matthew confirmed. "Would you like to walk with us?" Matthew couldn't say he really enjoyed the idea of Alfred's company at the moment, but he was still worried about him.

"That'd be awesome!" Alfred agreed with a sunny smile.

Matthew and Ivan started to move down the hall again, and Alfred fell into step beside them, chatting animatedly about the upcoming meeting topics. Matthew and Ivan listened attentively, occasionally making a comment or nodding their agreement. Matthew was never a big talker before 11:00am, and Ivan tended not to talk much in general unless it was because of politics or to someone he knew well, of which there weren't many people, but they were both engaged in the conversation as much as Alfred's vocal stream of consciousness would allow.

When they arrived at the designated meeting room and chose their seats, Alfred sat beside them, and looked very much as though he was going to continue talking right up until the meeting began. He might very well have done so if Arthur hadn't already been there and signaled to Matthew that he wanted a brief word with him. Matthew nodded across the room to Arthur, and then turned to Ivan and Alfred. "I'm sorry to cut you off, Alfred, but I need to check in with Arthur. I'll be right back."

Alfred seem to shrink back a little, his voice dropping slightly in volume. "Oh, sure, of course. See you in a bit."

Matthew nodded and squeezed Ivan's shoulder in farewell as he stood and moved to join Arthur.

"Is-is it okay if I sit here?"

Ivan, who had been watching Matthew walk away, turned his attention to Alfred, who was now addressing him, and him alone, for the first time that morning. "You are already sitting," Ivan observed, noting the faint flush of embarrassment that bloomed on Alfred's cheeks as Ivan's words hit home. "However I do not mind your presence. I cannot speak for Matthew, but I think he would have mentioned if he had any misgivings."

"Okay." Alfred nodded, and then looked down at his hands, which were resting on the table in front of him. He didn't look _deflated_ , but he definitely looked subdued.

Ivan shifted in his seat, turning to face Alfred more directly. "Matvey tells me you are going support meetings for your alcohol use, and that you have a sponsor."

Alfred stiffened slowly in his seat, his spine drawing taunt and lengthening his profile. He glanced furtively at Ivan. It had been a long time since he'd been even remotely friendly to Russia, but he'd been making an effort for Mattie's sake. His sponsor kept telling him 'if nothing changes, nothing changes' and while he saw no reason for his relationship with Russia to change, he defiantly wanted to be on better terms with Matthew, even if they were only friendly terms. "Yeah, I am."

Ivan nodded. "That is good. It is very difficult to look at yourself and be honest about your shortcomings, but you lose everything you care about if you do not." Ivan paused and shifted in his seat before continuing. "At first I had people dragging me out of my home, but eventually I started to do the work on my own. I would never have been free from the Vodka without support." Ivan glanced over at Matthew, then back at Alfred whose posture had softened considerably. "I think I am still learning how to reach out, but Matthew has set a good example."

Alfred didn't know what to say. How do you respond when your heretofore mortal enemy shared something vulnerable with you out of the blue? After a long moment of processing, Alfred's meeting habits kicked in and he replied, "Thank you for sharing."

"Thank you for listening," Ivan replied, holding Alfred's earnest gaze with his own until Alfred looked back at his hands, still folded neatly on the table.

Ivan thought this would be the end of the conversation and so turned away and did not see Alfred begin to struggle with his thoughts. Alfred had not considered Ivan a personal or political ally in so many decades, that the realization Ivan might indeed be friendly to him, if not civil, was wholly unexpected. It left an opening for a consideration that Alfred had all but dismissed, given his sponsor's grave reaction to the suggestion, and as soon as Alfred saw that possibility he couldn't look away.

Alfred glanced at his watch, then over at Matthew, who was still talking to Arthur. If he was going to capitalize on this opportunity now was a good time, but he only had a few minutes, if that. With some inward trepidation, but no outward hesitation, Alfred turned towards Ivan and asked, "Would you do me a favor?"


	22. Restoration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies are made, olive branches are offered, and Ivan worries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, subscribed to, and or followed my story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 22: Restoration

 

 

Ivan sipped idly at his tea as he pursued various work e-mails and other paperwork on his tablet. He was seated on Matthew's futon sofa, the tablet resting on his lap, with Kumajiro curled up against his hip.

Matthew was away for a work meeting with Ralph, the personification of Australia. Or at least he _had_ been in Australia. He was scheduled to return late tonight and was probably already on the plane. Personified nations did as much work as they could through letters, e-mails, video chats, phone calls, and other forms of communication, but travel was sometimes required outside of the world conferences. Even then, most personified nations tried to share the work, switching who would travel to whom as evenly as possible, assuming relations between the nations were friendly.

Matthew had suggested he spend some time with Ivan at his home in Moscow after his meeting in Australia concluded, but Ivan had said it would be more convenient for his schedule to arrive in Ottawa a few days before Matthew and wait for him to return. This was not strictly a lie. Ivan's travels did make this convenient, but his choice of where to spend time together had more to do with Alfred than Matthew.

Ivan glanced over to Matthew's front door for the hundredth time this morning. His eyes narrowed.

Alfred was _late_.

Ivan turned back to his tablet with a huff. He knew helping Alfred with this particular endeavor might not have been the wisest of decisions the moment he agreed to it. He normally wasn't so easily persuaded, but he had been struck by the earnest, desperate expression on Alfred's face as he pleaded his case.

" _I know I can't take back what I did…but I want to try anyway."_

It was a ludicrous statement that Ivan couldn't help but understand. How many times had similar thoughts plagued him about Toris? If he was honest with himself, those thoughts _still_ haunted him from time to time. He knew it was unwise to dwell with such thoughts. Wishing, however fervent, would never undo the past. All he could do now was live as justly as possible, taking care never to return to the way he had been before. It was not within his power to offer clemency to Alfred, even if he did understand what it was to be choked by your past, but he could at least show Alfred empathy.

A sharp, energetic knocking sounded on the door. With a sigh Ivan shifted, placing his tablet neatly on the coffee table, and taking his mug of tea with him to avoid spills. When he pulled open the door, Alfred's exuberant grin greeted him.

"Hey, big guy. Good morning."

Ivan sipped his tea before replying. "You are late."

Alfred frowned slightly. "Dude, it's way early still."

Ivan studied Alfred, noting that he didn't appear to have brought any supplies with him. That was fine, Matthew had everything Alfred would need. It _was_ , however, another sign that Alfred still did not excel at thinking things through. Change wasn't easy; Ivan knew that all too well. He hadn't suddenly woken up to the stark reality of his actions and their consequences one morning; it had been a slow process. Likewise, Alfred appeared to be moving through his own awakening, and while Ivan empathized, he wasn't about to spare Alfred any of the lessons he would need to make this change. "The work you intend to do should take a significant amount of time."

Alfred shrugged and waved a hand dismissively in front of him. "Please, dude. It's just a little cleaning. I have plenty of time."

"It seemed to matter to you a great deal last month," Ivan reminded him, his eyes narrowing reproachfully.

At this, Alfred finally grew serious. "It is important. Everyone always says the little things are the big things, right?"

"Bigger perhaps than you realize," Ivan replied. He stepped back and motioned for Alfred to come in. Alfred was about to do so, when Kumajiro rushed to the doorway, hackles raised, a deep, snarling growl resonating in his chest. Aside from occasional bursts of play, Kumajiro was lazy on the best of days, and neither Alfred nor Ivan had ever seen any form of aggression from him. Now, however, he was displaying it in spades. He didn't attack Alfred, but stopped on the threshold making it abundantly clear with continued growling and snarling that Alfred was _not_ welcome here as far as he was concerned. Alfred and Ivan stared at Kumajiro in stunned silence, unsure how to proceed.

Ivan was the first to recover, straightening his spine and speaking in a commanding, but not loud voice. "Kuma, heel." The growling stopped then, but not the menacing stance, so Ivan persisted. "Kuma, let Alfred in. If he hurts Matvey again, then you can eat him."

Kumajiro glanced briefly at Ivan, sniffed disapprovingly at Alfred and then, with much apparent reluctance, backed away from the door. Alfred stared after him for a moment before easing his way inside Matthew's cabin. "Thanks for the assist," he murmured, eyeing Kumajiro warily.

"I _am_ serious about letting him eat you," Ivan replied flatly, and Alfred finally lifted his gaze to Ivan's.

"I know." Alfred's face was serious again, and Ivan glimpsed the self-awareness and sadness that had first appealed to his sympathies. Alfred wasn't perfect, no one was, but he _did_ seem aware that he'd broken Matthew's heart.

"Then it's time to begin," Ivan said.

Alfred nodded, and his gaze shifted slowly down the hall.

"Do you need me to show you where Matthew keeps his cleaning supplies?" Ivan asked.

"No, no," Alfred was quick to protests. "It's been a while and stuff might have moved, but how hard can it be? I've got this. Go back to work, or whatever it was you were doing. You won't even know I'm here."

Ivan raised his eyebrows dubiously at Alfred, but made no further comment. He watched Alfred turn and make his way down the hall towards the linen closet, which also housed much of Matthew's cleaning supplies. Alfred was already muttering to himself about what he needed and where he could find it. Ivan couldn't hear everything, but the assumptions he did hear Alfred making were utterly incorrect. Alfred demonstrated this a moment later by walking _past_ the linen closet and into the bathroom... Despite Alfred's assurances, Ivan very much doubted Alfred 'had this.'

Ivan sighed, placed his mug down on the countertop of the kitchen island and turned to look at Kumajiro, who was sitting at the edge of the living room rug, staring menacingly down the hallway after Alfred. Ivan smiled softly and stepped forward to ruffle the fur on the top of Kumajiro's head, which Kuma allowed with only minimal grumbling.

"What do you think?" Ivan murmured softly to the bear. "Should we give him two hours?" Ivan was more than content to watch Alfred flounder in a mess of his own making, considering the fact that he'd refused assistance and guidance from Ivan multiple times. Matthew was due to return late this evening, and Ivan wanted him to come home to a clean house, even if that meant doing it himself.

He hadn't told Matthew to expect an immaculate house when he returned; Ivan and he were both neat people and regularly kept up on the spot cleanings their homes required. Over these past two days, however, Ivan had refrained from _any_ cleaning. He wasn't trying to make things difficult for Alfred, but Ivan wanted to give him a realistic experience of thoroughly cleaning an entire house.

When Alfred had first asked Ivan to help him get into and out of Matthew's home unseen, so that Matthew could come home from a meeting to a spotless house, he had mentioned that cleaning had been one of several things he'd often left entirely on Matthew's plate. Alfred had said he felt he owed Matthew more than a few pleasant surprises; that he had wanted to _show_ he was changing with more than just words.

Kumajiro grunted in response, but his eyes never wavered from Alfred as he started puttering around the house, walking right past the linen closet _again_ , and heading for the guest room instead. Ivan shook his head and returned to the futon sofa. Two hours was more than enough time for him to finish the tasks at hand and, even if it wasn't, Ivan suspected that's all the time he would get today.

Ivan was good at focusing his attention, even in high stress, high noise environments. Alfred, as boisterous as he could possibly be, didn't stand a chance of distracting him. Yes, Ivan was aware of some background noise as he worked, a few small crashes and clattering, but nothing overtly troubling. Ivan's concentration was unwavering until exactly two hours later when he leaned back, stretched, and scanned the surrounding environment. He expected to see or hear Alfred struggling with some task or another. The _last_ thing he expected to see was Alfred sitting on one of the high stools by the kitchen island enjoying a tall glass of water.

"On a break?" Ivan asked, shutting his tablet off and setting it on the coffee table before standing and making his way over to Alfred.

Alfred looked up at Ivan with an easy smile. "I think I'm done, big guy."

Ivan lifted his eyebrows, and scanned the surrounding countertops and floor spaces that he could see. There were patches that were clean, and places where dust bunnies and grit from outside had simply been _moved_. It wasn't bad, but it was far from what Ivan would call pristine. Considering the gesture Alfred stated he hoped to make, Ivan would consider it a poor effort. "Nyet."

Alfred looked up at him, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Nyet? What do you mean, nyet?"

There was a time, before the cold war and all their ensuing hostilities when Ivan and Alfred had been on friendly terms. It was largely a political relationship, but even so Ivan was sure Alfred knew enough Russian to understand the meaning of 'nyet', so it had to be why he was not done that confused him.

"Slip off your jacket, roll up your sleeves, and I will show you." Ivan pushed up his own sleeves, turned to the sink, and carefully wet down a sponge. When he turned back towards the counter Alfred was standing beside him looking attentive, if somewhat confused.

Ivan stepped forward and wiped down a clear spot of counter, turning the sponge over and scrubbing the few difficult or sticky spots he encountered. When he had thoroughly wiped down a section of counter Ivan set the sponge to one side and reached for a few sheets of paper towel. He took care to dry his hands and shake off any debris before scrubbing the water off the section of counter he had cleaned. Then he turned back and looked at Alfred.

Alfred looked at the counter, then at Ivan, then back at the counter. "Well, it's shinier, I guess?"

Ivan sighed and nudged Alfred over to another section of counter. "Put one hand here, and one hand on the section I cleaned; move them around, feel the difference."

Alfred looked Ivan dubiously before doing as he was told, pressing both hands into separate sections of the counter and rubbing them in slow deliberate circles. After a few moments he lifted his right hand and rubbed his fingers over his palm, clearing away crumbs and dust that had stuck to his hand.

"Sometimes it's easier to tell by feel than by sight," Ivan said, watching Alfred rub his right hand against his hip to clear away the rest of the debris.

"Yeah, but this is just small stuff," Alfred countered, turning back to face Ivan.

"And the little things are the big things, da?" Ivan was gratified to see Alfred flush in embarrassment when his own words came back to him. "This is something you said you wanted to do to make amends to Matvey. If this is an apology, shouldn't you put forth your best effort?"

Alfred nodded, his eyes scanning the kitchen and re-evaluating his efforts. He frowned, then his expression turned almost shamefaced. "You're right." He lifted his gaze back to Ivan's. "Thank you. I'll do better."

Ivan nodded. "Good. I will supervise."

If Alfred minded Ivan following him around and looking over his shoulder, he didn't voice it. He occasionally argued with Ivan when the shortcomings of his cleaning efforts were pointed out, but never for very long. On more than one occasion Alfred stretched, straightened, and declared himself done, only to have Ivan calmly and thoroughly describe what yet remained to be finished. Each time Alfred bent to his task with renewed vigor, although his frown deepened. Eventually Alfred stopped proclaiming himself done and simply looked to Ivan for his next task.

Hours ticked by, one after the other, but Alfred only paused for an occasional drink or water, or a bathroom break. Ivan followed him from room to room ensuring, without any thoughts of malice or of the feuds that had passed between Alfred and himself, that the cabin received an immaculately thorough cleaning.

"What's next?" Alfred asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with one hand while gripping the handle of Matthew's mop with his other.

Ivan scanned their surroundings with a satisfied expression before looking back to Alfred. "I believe we are finished."

Alfred also scanned the room, but instead of any satisfaction showing on his face, it looked like he might cry.

"What's wrong?" Ivan asked. He thought he knew, but if he was right, Alfred desperately needed to put words to his thoughts.

"I made him do this," Alfred breathed, his voice watery. "I made him do this _so many times_ …" Alfred lifted a hand and rubbed it over his face like he was trying to rub away a vision or a memory.

_Do you have_ _**any** _ _idea what it feels like to come home after a long day of meetings and see the carpet so thick with Kumajiro's fur it's almost white?_

_I am so_ _**fucking** _ _tired of cleaning up your messes…_

A large hand fell on his shoulder and rested there. Alfred looked up into Ivan's calm and sympathetic gaze. "Now you know," Ivan murmured. " _That_ makes a difference."

"I don't know about that," Alfred replied, glancing around the cabin once more. "Look how hard you had to work to get me to do a decent job."

"It was still you who lifted every sponge and broom," Ivan countered. "That's what you needed to understand. I was the same way."

Alfred lifted his gaze back to Ivan's. "With Toris?"

Ivan's jaw tightened and he nodded. It still wasn't easy to admit or talk about, but he doubted this was information Alfred would misuse, considering his own situation.

Alfred lifted his hand to cover Ivan's, pressing it down into his shoulder, both seeking and giving comfort. At length he squeezed Ivan's hand and stepped back. "Thank you for the help."

"You're welcome." Ivan replied. "Would you like any food before you go? You've been working for a long time."

"No, thank you," Alfred replied his expression softening. "I can get something on the way home, and I really don't want Mattie to think I did this expecting any sort of reward." Alfred hesitated, looked uncertain, and then pressed on. "There is…one other thing I'd like to do, but only with your permission."

Ivan frowned, curious. "And that is?"

Alfred shifted in place, shuffling his feet and rubbing the skin on the back of his neck. "I wanted to leave some flowers for him?" It came out as more of a question than a statement. "Nothing pushy or anything, just yellow roses. I did my research; they mean friendship."

Ivan considered his next words carefully. "Why would you need my permission? Matvey is his own person."

Alfred shrugged. He was having great difficulty making eye contact. "Yeah, but you're seeing him now. After fucking up so many things, I don't want to add to it by having you think I'm going after him again. You make him _happy_ …happier than I've ever made him."

Ivan's eyes narrowed. "You still have feelings for him." It wasn't a surprise. It was obvious, really, but Ivan wanted Alfred to know that he knew.

Alfred blushed and looked pointedly away. "I'm not trying to win him back," he insisted. With some effort, he managed to lift his eyes back to Ivan's. Alfred's gaze was steady, and filled with regret. "I just… I just want to make up for some of the pain I've caused."

 

~*~*~*~

 

It was late when Matthew finally pushed open his front door. He was surprised to see the light on downstairs; Ivan must be waiting up for him. He'd told Ivan not to wait up, but the prospect of some company after such a long plane ride lifted his spirits.

Matthew stooped to pet Kumajiro, who had rushed to the door to greet him, then pushed his way inside. "I'm ho… oh..."

Matthew peered at the environment around him, stunned. He always kept a very neat house, and Ivan, being the considerate guest that he was, never seemed to add to any clutter and dirt when he visited, but this… this was something else. He didn't think he'd ever seen his cabin so clean. A thorough cleaning like this would have taken _hours_.

"Hello, Matvey. Welcome home."

Matthew turned at the sound of Ivan's voice and found him rising from the sofa, a book in hand.

"Ivan." Matthew smiled and stepped forward to wrap his boyfriend in a long, tight hug. "How are you? You didn't tell me you were planning this!"

Ivan squeezed Matthew close, then leaned back just far enough to meet his eyes. "I am well, and that would have ruined the surprise."

"This must have taken forever," Matthew mused, stepping back from Ivan and scanning the area around him again.

"A few hours," Ivan confessed. He opened his mouth to explain that he had not done the actual cleaning when Matthew's gaze trailed down the hallway to his study and he stilled.

"Ivan, you didn't have to get me flowers!" Matthew walked down the hallway with Ivan at his heels. "These are beautiful!" Matthew stepped up to the large bouquet of yellow roses resting in a vase on his desk and leaned forward to smell them. It was a bit early in the year for roses; these had to be hothouse grown, but they still had a faint smell to them.

"The roses are not from me, Matvey."

Matthew stilled then straightened, turning to look at Ivan, who was standing in the doorway. "What?"

"I said the roses are not from me," Ivan repeated, taking a cautious step forward. "And I did not do the cleaning."

Matthew glanced back at the roses, then around the room. His brows knit together in confusion. When his eyes landed on Ivan once more he asked, "Who did?"

"Alfred." It wasn't easy to broach the topic, but Ivan had never turned away from something just because it was difficult. He had made the decision to assist Alfred because he had seen so much of his own situation in Alfred. It wasn't exactly the same, but the similarities were strong enough to play off Ivan's sympathies.

Matthew turned back to the flowers, and scanned the room again. He was frowning and his eyes moved more slowly, critically, as if evaluating the work instead of appreciating it as he had done before. "He cleaned everywhere?"

Ivan nodded. "Da. Every room. I supervised. He said he wanted to do it as an apology to you."

Matthew started walking, and Ivan gave way to him, letting Matthew past him and out into the hall. Matthew walked down the hall and into the bathroom, then out and into the guest room. He toured the kitchen and living room, before climbing the steps up to his bedroom and the ensuite bathroom. As Matthew walked, Ivan followed behind in silence. At last Matthew came to a stop in the middle of his bedroom, his eyes still sweeping the area around him. "He did a good job." Matthew observed.

"Are you upset?" Ivan asked, noting to himself that Matthew was still frowning and looking about the room as though he were searching for something, _anything_ to criticize.

Matthew shook his head. "No… I'm not sure how I feel to be honest." His eyes found Ivan's again, and his expression turned somewhat sheepish. "I think I'm looking for where he messed up." Matthew blew out a frustrated sigh and raked a hand through his hair. "But that's not fair to him, not to mention being ungrateful," he muttered to himself.

"It's understandable," Ivan assured him. "If I remember correctly, you said he did not always do his share of the cleaning?"

Matthew barked out a humorless laugh. "That's a kind way of putting it. We had so many discussions about who would do what, and what best matched both of our schedules, but he almost never stuck to his end, no matter what we changed." Matthew ran his fingers lightly over his dresser. "You said you supervised?"

"Da," Ivan confirmed. "He wanted to do a good job."

Matthew rubbed his fingers together and shook his head. "He did." Matthew turned back to Ivan. "You must have really put him through his paces."

Ivan shrugged. "He pleaded his case to me at the spring world conference. He said he wanted to make amends, that he more than owed you a pleasant surprise." Ivan hesitated for a moment before asking. "Would you rather I had not let him in?"

Matthew shook his head. "No. Knowing Alfred he might have tried picking the lock. There's no telling him to back off once he has an idea in his head." Matthew glanced around him once more before letting out a sigh that seemed to drain most of the tension from his body. "Thank you. I know this is probably weird for you, you must feel caught in the middle."

Ivan opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it. He _did_ feel caught in the middle, but he wasn't really doing anything to extricate himself either. He could have told Alfred to ask Matthew directly, but he hadn't. He could have let Alfred leave and cleaned up after him, but he hadn't. In theory he could have even taken credit for Alfred's work. Each of his alternative options, however, had felt distasteful to Ivan. Alfred and he had gotten along once, and it hadn't felt right to reject his request out of hand, nor to leave him to his own devices when he was struggling. "It's a difficult situation."

Matthew nodded. "I don't suspect it will get any easier." Then he sighed again and raked a hand through his blond hair, mussing it slightly. "I don't want to hold the past against him, I really don't." His eyes flicked to Ivan's and he knew they were both probably thinking of Ivan's own past with Toris. "He did a great job, and I can't imagine that this is any easier for him than me. In fact it's probably harder."

"It's never easy to confront your shortcomings," Ivan agreed.

"Yeah," Matthew began, stepping closer to Ivan and wrapping his arms around him. "Thank you for being there for me, and for him."

"Pozhaluysta," Ivan murmured, bending his head for a kiss.

Matthew turned his face up to meet Ivan's. It was a sweet kiss. Ivan tried hard not to think about the connection Matthew and Alfred had between them for so many years. He'd seen them together when they were still in love and he knew that bonds like that did not fade easily, if they faded at all. A seed of doubt nestled itself in Ivan's mind, and he couldn't help but wonder if Alfred's efforts at reconciliation might spell the beginning of the end of his relationship with Matthew.

It was a painful and difficult thought to consider, but many things might change with time and under the right circumstances. It might have been considered reasonable to lay this doubt aside, to avoid borrowing trouble from the future. On the other hand it certainly _wasn't_ advisable to avoid planning for the future altogether. For now there was little he could do but watch, wait and hope he was wrong. If not there would be difficult times ahead. This would at least require some thought, as well as some possible rehashing of painful topics. Even so, Ivan was not the kind of man who turned away from something just because it was difficult…


	23. Embers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes fires can be stoked long after one thinks they have gone out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to me story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 23: Embers

 

Matthew sighed and lifted his hands high above his head and a long, full body stretch. It had been a long day, but a productive one. He was in London at the moment for a two day Commonwealth nations conference, one of the instances where the work of a personified nation could not be completed remotely. It was over now, and thankfully he wasn't leaving until tomorrow morning.

It had been a while since he'd seen Francis and Arthur so he'd invited them both out to dinner along with Gilbert, Ludwig, and Feliciano. No one but Arthur was part of the Commonwealth, so Matthew was grateful that they had all been free to accept the invitation.

Matthew let his hands fall limply back to his sides for a moment, before lifting them again and adjusting his suit jacket. Moments later he rounded the corner and stepped into the hotel lobby. He could see everyone was already waiting for him by the entrance, as they had agreed. He had his hand lifted in greeting as he approached and his eyes landed on _Alfred_.

Matthew faltered but managed not to stumble. What on earth was _Alfred_ doing here? He wasn't part of the Commonwealth. Matthew didn't think Alfred had a meeting that would've brought him to the area, Arthur had been busy… Alfred hadn't undertaken anymore grand gestures since he'd cleaned Matthew's house, but now Matthew worried that Alfred intended to invite himself out to dinner with the rest of him.

It wasn't that things were _bad_ with Alfred, far from it. They'd been talking, more or less normally, about their mutual political obligations, and there had been some casual personal texting. It was almost starting to feel easy again, but Matthew felt himself holding back, fearful that Alfred would make assumptions, or try to steamroll him into something he wasn't comfortable with.

Since their renewed acquaintance Alfred had been his usual, exuberant self, and at times it had felt pushy, but Alfred had also shown an increased sense of awareness. He asked Matthew for feedback every so often with the professed intent of making sure Matthew was, in fact, comfortable with their re-established working relationship and personal acquaintance. Alfred had even sent him a series of texts a few days after he'd cleaned Matthews's home:

_Hey, Mattie. I hope it was okay that I dropped by your place the other day._

_I mean, I wanted it to be a surprise because I thought if I asked you then you'd think I wouldn't come. I haven't exactly had a stellar record for keeping my word recently._

_But if I crossed a line I want to know. I can still get carried away when I think something is a good idea, and I'm trying to be more aware of that._

Matthew's response had been brief but conciliatory:

_Its fine, Al. I understand why you did it. I'm not mad._

And he wasn't mad. Matthew was still at a loss to put any name to how he felt, except cautious. Alfred seemed to understand and respect where that caution came from, which was an unexpected, and pleasant, surprise, and all the more confusing.

Alfred, who was standing off to one side speaking to Francis and Arthur, saw Matthew approach the larger group. He smiled and lifted a hand in greeting before turning his attention back to his conversation.

"There you are, Birdie!" Gilbert cried, rushing forward to pull Matthew into a tight hug. "How've you been?"

"I'm good," Matthew replied, forcing himself to focus on Gilbert, as well as Ludwig and Feliciano, who stood beside him. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"You're not late," Ludwig assured him.

"Yeah, we got here early to check in and relax," Feliciano added with a sunny smile.

"Good," Matthew replied, but already his gaze was drifting back to Alfred. He could hear only snatches of what he was saying to Francis, but it sounded like an apology.

"It's no trouble at all," Francis assured Alfred. "Thank you for being so flexible."

Alfred smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that told Matthew he was nervous. "No problem. It was my fault for being late in the first place. Anyway, I should get going. I don't want to make you late for diner."

Alfred always spoke louder when he was nervous and his last words had been clearly heard by the group, including kind hearted Feliciano, who said, "Why don't you come with us, Alfred? You must be hungry after that long train ride."

Matthew knew Feliciano meant no harm, he probably only wanted everyone to have a nice evening together, but still it was all Matthew could do to bite his tongue. Now that the offer had been made, he didn't want to be rude by withdrawing it.

Alfred smiled and shook his head. "You guys had plans; I don't want to be in the way."

There was sadness in that smile that touched Matthew's heart. Alfred hadn't missed a beat in offering a polite refusal to Feliciano's invitation; he seemed to expect that he wouldn't be wanted. Again Matthew was reminded of the parallels between Ivan and Alfred. If he'd been willing to have sympathy for someone he barely knew, could he really isolate someone he knew so well?"

"You can come." Matthew's own words surprised him, but even as he said them he didn't want to take them back.

Alfred hesitated. "Are you sure, Mattie?"

"I'm sure." Matthew's voice was still quiet, but steady.

"Yeah, you buy the drinks!" Gilbert agreed, clapping Alfred on the shoulder with more force than was strictly necessary. His tone was light but Matthew knew it he wasn't joking. Matthew narrowed his eyes at Gilbert who winked back at him, a silent promise that he would behave. As much as Matthew appreciated Gilbert's protective streak, he'd been serious when he'd asked him not to retaliate against Alfred on his behalf. He didn't want Alfred to be attacked for something that was a personal concern between the two of them.

"Deal," Alfred agreed with a smile that, by Alfred's standards, was reserved.

"Awesome!" Gilbert cheered, "Let's get going!"

As they moved to the doors Gilbert threw his arm around Matthew's shoulder and kept him close. They walked behind Ludwig and Feliciano, who were leading the way to the restaurant they'd all agreed on per Arthur's recommendation.

"How are you doing, Birdie?" Gilbert asked, giving Matthew's shoulder another squeeze.

"I'm fine, Gil, you know that," Matthew replied eying Gilbert skeptically. "I literally talked to you via video chat before my flight here."

Gilbert frowned. "Ja, but it's been _forever_ since we had the chance to hang out in person!"

"Too long," Matthew agreed, looping his own arm around Gilbert's waist as they walked. "I've really been looking forward to tonight."

"Me too," Gilbert beamed at him. "We've got to hang out sometime in a way that's not connected to a conference.

"You know you're welcome to visit anytime, Gil," Matthew replied

"Und invade your love nest?!" Gilbert cried loudly with mock indignation, and then he snickered. "No, you need to come visit me."

Matthew frowned, suspicious that Gilbert was trying to put on a show. He leaned close and dropped his voice to a low murmur. "Gill, I don't need a guard dog."

"I know that," Gilbert assured him. "You've always been stronger than people give you credit for. I'm just trying to show where my loyalties are."

"No one doubts where your loyalties are, Gill," Matthew replied, glancing back over his shoulder at Alfred, who was walking behind them, chatting casually with Francis and Arthur. He was standing close enough to speak with them, but also far enough away that it would be easy for him to give them their privacy if they wanted it. Matthew wasn't sure if Alfred had done this deliberately, or by accident. He hadn't been in the habit of showing such consideration until recently.

_But if I crossed a line I want to know. I can still get carried away when I think something is a good idea, and I'm trying to be more aware of that._

Then again, changing old habits wasn't easy, and whether Alfred was deliberately or accidently thoughtful at this moment, he _was_ trying to change. Matthew turned back to Gilbert and added, "I know Alfred hasn't been a model citizen lately, but he really has been working to better himself."

Gilbert's eyebrows raised in surprise, and he glanced over his shoulder as well. This time Alfred noticed the movement and lifted a hand in a friendly wave. Gilbert nodded back, but his expression was withdrawn and thoughtful. "If you say so, Birdie."

It was a short walk the rest of the way to the restaurant, and because they had called ahead for reservations they were quickly seated. The weather was beautiful, cool without being cold, and the last of the spring flowers were still in bloom, so the group opted to be seated in the open air courtyard of the restaurant. The sun had set, but the restaurant had hung zigzagging lights over the outside tables, which cast a warm welcoming light on the diners and the little garden they dined in.

The waiter seated them at a large round table and, although he'd hung back to let everyone choose where they wanted to sit, Alfred still ended up on Matthew's right. Matthew didn't mind. He'd sat next to Alfred at several meetings during the last world conference, and the fact that a space had been left open next to Matthew was perhaps a sign that the others weren't feeling as protective as Gilbert, which Matthew was grateful for.

Once they each had a glass of water, the waiter stepped back and addressed the group as a whole. "What would you like to drink this evening?"

Francis, Feliciano, and Arthur each ordered red wine. Gilbert and Ludwig ordered beer. Then the waiter turned to Alfred who flashed him a charming smile. "Just water for me, thanks."

The waiter nodded and turned to Matthew, who said, "Just water for me too, please."

The waiter nodded again. "Very good. I will give you a few minutes to look over the menu, then I will be back with your drinks."

Matthew's gaze fell to the menu as the waiter turned and walked away. He tried not to peruse the desert section first, and failed miserably. He'd just managed to bring his eyes up to consider the fish section, when he was startled by a hand on his arm. Matthew jumped, turned, and was met with one of Alfred's easy smiles.

"Sorry, Mattie. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I'm fine," Matthew assured him with a smile of his own. Alfred's smiles had always been infectious. "What's up?"

Alfred hesitated for a moment, as though searching for the right words. At last he leaned forward a bit and murmured, "You know you can drink if you want to, right? I'll be fine, I swear."

"Are you sure this isn't…triggering for you?" Matthew asked, keeping his voice low as well.

"It's not," Alfred said, shaking his head. "They don't exactly have the shit I would drink here, and even if they did it only got really bad when I started to drink alone." Matthew could feel Alfred's fingers flex against his arm. "I want to actually remember this, and if I need a minute to myself, well, no one's tying me to the table."

_There was a time when I could go on a tour like this, drink everything that was put in front of me, and still drive home afterwards without really remembering it._

Matthew swallowed hard as Ivan's words from so long ago echoed in his head, oblivious to Alfred's self-deprecating chuckling. "If... if you decide you need a break, I'm happy to walk around the block with you."

Alfred's chuckling fell away and his expression sobered. His fingers tightened a bit more, squeezing Matthew's arm gently. "Thank you, Mattie. That's really kind."

Matthew placed his hand over Alfred's and gave a gentle squeeze. "Anytime." Alfred looked a bit surprised at the gesture, and if he was honest with himself, Matthew was a bit surprised too, but he meant what he'd said. He doubted there was a situation where he wouldn't help Alfred, assuming Alfred had good intentions and really needed it.

The waiter returned a few minutes later, distributed the drinks that had been ordered, refilled water glasses, took everyone's order, then retreated back into the main building of the restaurant. Francis leaned back in his seat, swirling his wine gently. "I must confess," he began, "I'm glad you invited us out tonight, Matthieu. It helped me plead my case to Arthur, and convince him to take a long weekend."

"It really has been too long," Gilbert agreed. "It shouldn't be so hard to get time away with the people who really matter."

"We should do this every month!" Feliciano suggested, gesturing excitedly with his wine glass.

"I don't think every month would be practical, Feli," Ludwig said. "We have to consider the distance Matthew has to travel."

"We could definitely get away with scheduling a get together around the world conferences," Arthur suggested. "We all have to be there anyway."

"Yes," Gilbert agreed turning to nudge Matthew playfully. "Then Birdie can bring Ivan with him. He should be included now that things are getting so serious."

Matthew flushed and nudged Gilbert right back. "I'm sure Ivan won't mind. I'll talk it over with him next time I see him."

"And when will that be?" Gilbert asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"I'm flying out to see him tomorrow, actually," Matthew replied cooly, utterly ignoring Gilbert's suggestive tone. "It'll be the first time I'll be able to join him in Moscow since the beginning of the year."

"Don't go eloping on us, Birdie," Gilbert chuckled.

"That isn't going to happen." Matthew's face was impassive, but Alfred didn't miss the flat tone Matthew's voice had shifted into. He was not amused, and Alfred couldn't help but wonder if he had played some part in souring Matthew on the idea of marriage, or if it was simply too early in his relationship with Ivan to talk about marriage. Alfred knew all too well that he couldn't do anything to change the past, but he could at least do something to change the topic and, hopefully, relieve Matthew's current distress.

"So, Arthur," Alfred began leaning slightly over the table towards Arthur, "How did the Commonwealth conference go?"

Arthur blinked back at him in silence, surprised by Alfred's interest. Alfred _never_ talked about work if he could help it.

"I mean, don't tell me anything I shouldn't know, obviously," Alfred continued with a lazy smile. "Not that I think you would. You've always been very good at following protocol." Alfred's voice was warm, welcoming, and interested, all of which were unexpected.

"It went well," Arthur said haltingly. "It was nice to have everyone together again. We're not able to do it more than once or twice a year."

Alfred nodded. "Right, because all our schedules are crazy."

"They can be," Arthur agreed with a small smile, "but it's much better than it has been. It doesn't take weeks or months of time just to be able to have a face to face meeting. We're going to start rotating who hosts the meeting; Matthew will be hosting the next one."

"Yeah?" Alfred asked, turning his smile on Matthew. "That's great."

"How did you meeting with Francis go?" Arthur asked, drawing Alfred's attention back to him.

A light flush of embarrassment spread over Alfred's cheeks. "It was good. I was late, unfortunately; completely my fault. I scheduled a conference call too close to my flight time and had to take a later flight. Francis was nice enough to let me travel with him on the train to London so we could have our meeting on the go."

"It was no trouble, Alfred," Francis interjected. "You were very pleasant company."

"Thank you," Alfred replied, turning his smile on Francis for a moment.

"We have a meeting coming up as well, don't we?" Ludwig asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tapping efficiently on the screen. "On the 25th?"

"I think so, but let me check." Alfred pulled how own phone out of his pocket, tapping and scanning he screen carefully. "Yes, the 25th at 7:00am Eastern Standard Time? I have it marked as a video chat conference."

"Ja, that is correct," Ludwig agreed, locking his phone and moving it to his pocket while Alfred did the same.

"Guys," Gilbert broke in, "We're here to forget work and relax. The conference is over, the night is young. Do you want to go dancing after this?"

"Sorry," Alfred replied with a shake of his head. "I'm taking a break from late nights for a while."

"That is a very kind offer," Francis began with a meaningful glance at Arthur, "but I have other plans." Arthur pretended to look obliviously into his wine glass, but he could not hide the faint blush that covered his cheeks.

Gilbert looked to Matthew who shook his head. "Sorry, Gil. I have a flight out tomorrow. I can't stay out too late. Maybe next time."

"Fiiine," Gilbert sighed and leaned back in his chair. "But plan on it for next time."

"I will," Matthew promised, and Francis and Arthur readily gave their assent as well.

"We can still go out, can't we?" Feliciano asked Gilbert, leaning around Ludwig so he could look at him.

"Of course, Feli," Gilbert agreed reaching across Ludwig to give Feliciano's hand a squeeze. "And Ludwig has to go, because he's out voted."

"I wasn't opposed to going," Ludwig grumbled.

"Good, dancing will be fun," Feliciano mused. He and Gilbert locked eyes across the table, shared a knowing look, and as one, reached up and pressed a kiss to both of Ludwig's cheeks.

Ludwig promptly blushed all the way down his neck, but there was a reserved smile on his lips, when he glanced at Feliciano and Gilbert in turn and murmured, "Behave."

Gilbert and Feliciano chuckled, and then shared a high five behind Ludwig's back, much to the amusement of the rest of the table.

Dinner passed quickly, and all too soon their small group was breaking up to go their separate ways.

"Thank you for suggesting we all go to dinner," Francis said to Matthew as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. "I had a lovely time."

"I'm glad, papa," Matthew replied, sliding his arms around Francis and pulling him into a hug. "Me too. It was good to see you."

Francis pressed a kiss into Matthew's forehead, then stepped back, and Arthur took his place. "Have a safe flight," Arthur murmured, squeezing Matthew gently.

Matthew smiled and squeezed him back. "Thank you, Arthur. You have a good weekend."

As soon as Arthur released him, Gilbert stepped forward, wrapped his long arms around Matthew's shoulders, and started hanging on him. "Don't forget you owe me a dance, Birdie."

Matthew chuckled and returned Gilbert's embrace, patting him on the back conciliatorily. "I won't. You go have fun tonight."

More hugs and handshakes were exchanged before they began to part ways. Arthur and Francis crossed the street, on their way to Arthur's townhouse, while Ludwing, Feliciano, and Gilbert made their way down the street towards a popular night club. Matthew waved to them, and then turned to look at Alfred, who had hung back with him. "What's next for you? Did you have time to get a hotel for the night?"

Alfred winced at Matthew's words and nodded. "I have a room booked in Paris."

Mathew nodded. "That's good. Are you taking the train back?"

"That's the plan," Alfred replied, stepping forward with his hands in his pockets. "I was, uh, wondering if I could walk you back to your hotel first. I-if you don't mind that is. I don't want to pressure you." Alfred's expression was eager, but his posture was subdued, as if he expected a refusal.

Matthew hesitated for a moment, considering. There were a lot of reasons why letting Alfred walk him back to the hotel might be a bad idea… but he just couldn't throw the olive branches Alfred was offering back in his face. It had probably taken him a lot of courage to ask in the first place. "Sure, Al. You can walk me back."

Alfred let out a breath he'd been holding and flashed Matthew a relived smile. "Thanks, Mattie."

They turned and walked down the street in silence, but it was an easy silence. Matthew glanced over at Alfred as they walked. He looked tired, but healthier than Matthew had seen him in a long time. He looked sad too, and Matthew was reminded of the steps Alfred had been taking to try to make amends. "Alfred?"

Alfred turned his head to look at Matthew, giving him his undivided attention. "Yes, Mattie?"

"I don't think I ever thanked you properly for coming to clean my house; thank you."

Alfred's smile widened, and a flush of pleasure spread over his cheeks. "You don't need to thank me, Mattie," he protested. "I wanted to show you that I understood; I really left you in the lurch a lot." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Honestly I'm not sure I would have done such a good job if Ivan hadn't been there."

Matthew frowned and reached out grasp Alfred's hand in his as they walked. Alfred started, but returned the steady grip. "I know this isn't easy for you, Al, but give yourself credit for what you're doing. Change is never easy." He hesitated for a moment before adding. "Ivan says it took him years, and he's still working on some things."

Alfred nodded, squeezing Matthew's hand gently. "Thanks Mattie. I'm sorry I hurt you. I really didn't want to be that guy."

"Apology accepted," Matthew murmured, squeezing Alfred's hand back. "I'm sorry too. I think I really disengaged at the end there, and that wasn't going to fix anything."

"You had a good reason to walk away," Alfred protested. "You tried to talk to me, lots of times. I just… I wasn't listening. I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven," Matthew replied. "I'm sorry, too."

Alfred stopped and pulled Matthew into a snug embrace. "Thank you, Mattie."

Matthew was a bit startled, but he didn't pull away. He could feel Alfred trembling slightly, so he wrapped his arms around him, pulled him close, and returned the hug. They stayed like that for a long, silent moment. When Alfred pulled back he immediately looked up at the buildings around them. Matthew suspected he was trying to blink back tears and mercifully didn't comment.

"This is you," Alfred murmured, his voice slightly husky from unspoken tears.

Matthew turned his head, following Alfred's gaze with his own, looking up at the hotel the Commonwealth conference had been held in. "This is my stop," he agreed, then turned back to Alfred, who seemed able to look back at him now. "Thank you for walking me back, Alfred."

"You're welcome," Alfred replied. "Thank you for letting me."

Gently, Matthew stepped back, disengaging himself from Alfred. "You should get going, you'll miss the last train otherwise."

Alfred nodded. "Goodnight, Mattie."

"Goodnight, Al," Matthew replied. With a wave and a smile he turned and walked inside the hotel, back up to his room.

Matthew was only on the third floor, so it was a quick trip. Less than three minutes later he pushed his keycard into the lock on his room door, and pushed it open. He didn't turn on the lights, instead waiting a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting in his room. Carefully Matthew toed out of his shoes and crossed to the window on the far wall. He'd left the drapes open and now he looked out into the twinkling lights of the London skyline. Just as he reached for the drapes, intending to draw them closed so he could shower and sleep, his eyes landed on an all too familiar head of blonde hair.

"Alfred?" Matthew was so surprised he spoke aloud. Alfred was looking up at the building, but didn't seem to be specifically looking at him. Frowning, Matthew reached for his phone and called Alfred. He picked up on the first ring.

"Hey, Mattie! What's up?" His voice was upbeat, almost chipper.

"…Alfred… Why are you still in front of the hotel?"

Alfred's whole body flinched, and his free hand flew to the back of his neck once more. "Crap. You caught me, huh?"

Matthew bit his tongue for a moment to suppress a snort of inappropriate laughter. "Alfred, I'm looking right at you now. I'm on the third floor." Matthew waved with the hand holding his phone, hoping the light from the screen would attract Alfred's attention.

Alfred turned and lifted his gaze to Matthew's almost immediately. "Ah, there you are. I see you now." He lifted a hand to wave back. "I swear I'm not trying to be a creeper or anything. I was just resting a moment, thinking about the night. My sponsor has me working on gratitude lists and stuff, and I really am grateful you let me come to dinner and walk you back."

A reluctant smile stole over Matthew's features. "Well I'm back in my room now, all safe and sound," he assured Alfred, "Now get going or you'll miss your train!"

Matthew knew Alfred could hear the smile in his voice because an answering grin bloomed over his own features as he lifted his free hand in an energetic salute. "Will do. Sleep well, Mattie."

Matthew chuckled softly and waved with his free hand. "You too, Alfred. Have a safe trip back."

They ended the call, but Matthew stayed by the window, watching until Alfred was out of sight, a fond smile playing over his lips.


	24. Possibilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to lie to yourself, but you can try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to this story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 24: Possibilities

 

_Dude! I_ _**love** _ _that idea! I've totally got to try it next time! :)))_

A loud, sharp laugh escaped Matthew before he could call it back again. He flushed slightly and pressed a hand over his mouth, peeking sheepishly up at the driver of the taxi that had picked him up from the airport. The driver, however, remained stoically facing the road. Still, he _had_ to have heard Matthew.

"Sorry," Matthew murmured, turning his attention back to the phone in his lap.

_Alfred,_ _**NO** _ _! Absolutely not! You'll be arrested! Did you not read that part? And anyway, Ivan was JOKING!_

A few moments later, Matthew's phone vibrated in his hand as a response text came in.

_Fiiine. :P Seriously cool idea though, running through the aisle of a plane. The seats are so close together they always make my legs cramp up. And some flights take so looong!_

Matthew chuckled softly and shook his head. He'd just seen Alfred last night at dinner and this morning, when he'd seen a text wishing him a safe flight, he's responded, thanking Alfred for his well wishes and his company the night before. Alfred really was trying to rebuild their friendship, and Matthew didn't want to hold onto his resentments anymore. It was only hurting both of them.

Matthew actually had trouble getting out the door on time for his flight, because Alfred had responded so quickly. One thing led to another and before Matthew knew it, it was time to put his phone into airplane mode. He'd wished Alfred a good day, only to find a long string of texts waiting for him after he'd landed.

_Have a good flight, Mattie! 3_

_Try not to get too bored._

_God, I hate long flights._

_And we have to take them so often!_

_It's unjust._

_I demand hazard pay._

_Oh, hey, is Kuma flying with you?_

_You'd think a miniature polar bear would be a hazard on a plane, but he's always so well behaved…_

_If only he could be that patient around meal times._

_That's right, he's not so patient about waiting in hotel rooms is he?_

_I know you probably have someone who watches him already, but I wanted to let you know that I'd be happy to watch him too… if you ever needed a little extra help._

_But don't feel obligated or anything!_

_I know you probably don't really trust me right now…_

_I deserve that, but I'm going to make it up to you._

_Promise._

_Thank you, so much, for giving me the chance to make it up to you, Mattie. 3_

Matthew had barely felt the jostle of the crowd around him at the airport; his attention had been wholly captivated by Alfred's texts. He was touched and amused by Alfred's messages. He'd immediately sent back a reply.

_Thank you, Alfred, I'm safe, sound, and sane, despite the long trip._

_Also, did you have to send me a_ _**novel** _ _?_

Alfred's reply was immediate, just as it had been earlier that day.

_Lol, sorry. That was a lot of messages huh? I just kept thinking of stuff I wanted to tell you, and how boring those long plane rides are._

Matthew had smiled, and traced Alfred's words with his fingers before replying.

_Hm. They might not be quite so boring if I was able to text you, or at least get your texts. Your stream of consciousness is pretty entertaining._

_Yeah? Thanks. :)_

And just like that they were talking again. Matthew stumbled his way through the airport to baggage claim, and outside to hail a cab, his eyes constantly returning to his phone. He had just finished telling Alfred about Ivan's joke about running down the aisle of a plane until one was consequently subdued by an air marshal. Matthew knew the cab had to be close to Ivan's house, but it was hard to tear his eyes away from his phone. He typed out his next text, promising himself he'd wrap things up soon.

_Hey don't complain. It wasn't too long ago we'd have to travel for_ _**weeks** _ _if not_ _ **months** _ _to have any kind of world conference._

Alfred's replies had been all but instantaneous all day, so Matthew was staring at his screen intently when the passenger door he'd been leaning on opened abruptly. Matthew jolted and looked up. He flushed with embarrassment when he saw the cab driver standing just outside the cab with Matthew's luggage beside him. _How_ had he not realized that they'd come to a stop?

Matthew shoved his phone into the pocket of his trousers and scrambled to his feet. "Thank you," he murmured, pulling out his wallet and counting out his fare, making sure to include a generous tip.

The driver accepted the payment with a nod, shut the rear passenger door, and walked back around the cab to the driver's seat. Matthew walked the few paces to his luggage, put his wallet away, and pulled his phone back out. He saw that Alfred had already replied.

_Very true. There's a lot to be grateful for and it's easy to forget that._

_I've been working with my sponsor lately on gratitude lists. It's not always easy, but I think it's helping._

Matthew frowned as he typed. He didn't like cutting off a conversation so abruptly. He knew how much Alfred's recovery and work with his sponsor was helping him, and he wanted to encourage him. At the same time Matthew knew it was his own fault for not paying attention on the ride over. If he had been, he could have said goodbye properly.

_That's great, Alfred. I'm glad you're working so hard. I'm sorry to cut this short, but I'm at Ivan's house already. Talk to you later. I hope you have a good day._

Matthew pressed send, then returned his phone to his coat pocket and reached for his luggage. It was a short walk to Ivan's door. Matthew used the key Ivan had given him during his last visit to let himself in. He didn't knock or announce himself; Ivan had said that he would be in a meeting via webcam, which was why he hadn't been able to pick Matthew up himself.

Matthew made it up the stairs and to the doorway of Ivan's bedroom when he felt his phone buzz again. He frowned. He'd have to turn the notifications off for Alfred's texts. He didn't want his visit with Ivan to be constantly interrupted. He set his bags down by the bed, before he turned and looked around the room. It held the same cozy atmosphere as his last visit, but without the fire. There was no need for one now.

A note was sitting on top of the dresser, easily visible as Matthew approached it. It read:

_Matthew,_

_I am sorry I couldn't pick you up from the airport. Hopefully my meeting won't take too much longer. Please make yourself at home. I've cleared some space in the dresser for you._

_Love,_

_-Ivan_

Matthew smiled down at the note for a moment before setting to work. He packed light, a natural consequence of frequent travel, so it didn't take long for him to stow his clothes in the dresser and his toiletries in the attached bath. He stored his luggage under the bed, then straightened and looked around the room once more. He reached for his phone, considering bringing up a book to read through his kindle app, when he saw Alfred's text, still unread.

Matthew tapped to open the message. He was already planning a gentle request asking Alfred not to text him too much this next week, when the words of Alfred's text brought all other thoughts to a standstill.

_I understand. Have a good time with your boyfriend, Mattie. I'll message you sometime next week._

It was a respectful, sympathetic message.

_Have a good time with your boyfriend, Mattie._

It was the truth, and yet it felt very strange to see _Alfred_ of all people, expressing that particular sentiment. For so many years Alfred had been his _everything_ , and now… he wasn't. Neither was Ivan, honestly. Now that Matthew had some distance from Alfred, and had spent some time on his own, it didn't seem healthy to be _that_ attached to any one person. He _loved_ Ivan, wanted to continue their relationship for however long it made sense to both of them. In this relationship he was much more his own person.

The creak of the bedroom door caused Matthew to look up. He smiled when his eyes met Ivan's, and, stowing his phone in his pocket, he crossed the room to pull Ivan into a tight hug. Ivan returned the embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of Matthew's neck. Matthew rested his cheek on Ivan's shoulder, sighing happily as he gave over all of his attention to holding his lover.

"How was your flight?" Ivan murmured, making no move to pull away.

"Long," Matthew replied, pressing a kiss into Ivan's shoulder before pulling back and looking up at him. "But I survived."

"Reading more books on your phone?" Ivan asked, nodded to the very pocket Matthew had stuffed his phone into.

"A bit," Matthew agreed. "I spent most of the ride over texting Alfred. I was worried I would have to tell him to stop, but when I mentioned I was here he wished me well and said he'd talk to me later all on his own."

A smile that Matthew found difficult to read crossed over Ivan's features. "And how is Alfred? Are you still worried about him?"

Matthew shook his head, hesitated, and then shook his head again. "No. I think he's doing much better. I saw him last night; he ended up coming to dinner with us. When I saw him I was worried he would invite himself, but he didn't. Feliciano offered, but he still refused." Matthew glanced away and frowned. "It didn't seem right to exclude him though." He looked back up at Ivan. "I don't want him to feel like he has to pay forever for his mistakes."

Ivan's smile shifted, becoming more familiar. He reached up and caressed the side of Matthew's cheek. "You have a very forgiving heart."

Matthew shrugged. "I'm not so sure about that. I really wanted him to leave until I thought of you, and everything you've been through."

"No one would expect you to welcome someone who hurt you so badly," Ivan replied.

"I don't want to hold on to those resentments, though." Matthew sighed and leaned his head against Ivan's chest for a movement. "It's a complicated situation. It's not like I could just stop talking to him."

Ivan looked thoughtfully at Matthew for a moment before asking, "Would you stop talking to him if you could?"

"No." Matthew's reply was so immediate that he felt himself flush with both embarrassment and surprise. "Does it… does it bother you that I still talk to Alfred? As a friend, I mean."

Ivan hesitated. The idea of Matthew and Alfred rebuilding a friendship _didn't_ bother him. It really didn't. It was the idea that the bond and connection Alfred and Matthew had shared for so long would endanger his own relationship with Matthew.

Ivan was not blind.

He'd seen how much walking away from Alfred had affected Matthew, and how much he still cared. Matthew had been doing his best to convince everyone, most of all himself, that he no longer held any romantic feelings Alfred. For a while he'd tried to pretend he no longer had any feelings at all, but that façade had crumbled relatively quickly once Alfred had put forth his clumsy and poorly thought out olive branch. The truth was that Alfred mattered a great deal to Matthew. He always had, and he probably always would.

It wasn't that Ivan doubted Matthew's constancy; Matthew was loyal to a fault. He was also _human_. Being a personified nation gave long life and linked much of their biology with their country and people, but like their people, personified nations were prone to every human emotion and attachments. Why else would technically unrelated nations cluster together as 'families'? Personified nations needed to connect and to belong as much as everyone else.

Matthew might live in denial for a long time about the reality and greater possibilities of his feelings. He wasn't likely to distance himself from Alfred so long as Alfred was in recovery and bringing forth all of those good qualities which Matthew had first fallen in love with. If that love were to resurface, which Ivan found highly likely, considering their history and ongoing connection, Matthew likely wouldn't mention it to Ivan. Ivan doubted Matthew would even act on a renewed love for Alfred, so long as he still loved and was committed to Ivan. He would, however be unhappy, at least in part. Unhappiness breeds resentment and, whether Matthew lived in denial about that or not, it could eventually damage their relationship.

Ivan knew he was thinking far ahead of his current reality. That was only natural, considering the multiple tragedies that had all but blindsided him in the past. If one did not look ahead, at least in part, one would be left wholly unprepared. Neither was it wise to look too far ahead. Ivan knew his fear of losing those closest to him had fostered the jealousy and foul temper that destroyed his relationship with Toris. He couldn't _guarantee_ that Matthew would fall back in love with Alfred, or that this would lead to damaging resentments, but he still felt the possibility was strong, and he wanted to be prepared.

Perhaps a better man would sit back and let the inevitable happen, enjoying what little time he had with Matthew, but Ivan was not a saint. His fierce determination to keep his connection with Matthew strong and healthy had produced a plan, a possible solution. It was not a solution that Ivan felt he was acting on impulsively. After it had occurred to him, he'd spent a significant amount of time considering it, and his own feelings. If he began without honest intentions, or ignored any inward feelings of unease or protest, he would not succeed.

Alfred and Ivan had shared a close alliance once, as close to a healthy friendship as Ivan had been able to come to in those days. He recognized many of the qualities Matthew had listed on those few occasions when he had spoken about what drew him to Alfred in the first place. It was Alfred's confidence and strength that had first attracted Ivan to him as an ally. If he was equally willing to go forward with Ivan's suggestions, there was a reasonably strong chance of success.

First, however, Ivan had to broach the subject with Matthew. He stepped back slightly and gripped Matthew's hands in both of his, squeezing them when he saw Matthew frown. "It does not bother me," Ivan assured him, "but I did want to talk to you about Alfred."

Matthew's frown deepened; this sounded serious. "What about Alfred?"

Ivan hesitated for a moment before saying, "You've been growing closer to him lately. I've seen you fighting it, but he is making you smile again."

"And that's a _problem_?" Matthew asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"It is possible that your feelings for him will return," Ivan replied, his voice soft and sad.

Matthew's mouth opened in protest and a flood of conflicting emotions surged in his chest: anger, denial, frustration, and concern. Ivan had _just_ said he wasn't bothered by Matthew talking with Alfred, only to contradict his words with his very next breath. Matthew could understand that Ivan might be anxious about Matthew's improving relationship with Alfred; it was why Matthew had asked if it bothered him in the first place. He didn't intend to be controlled by Ivan, but he did want to reassure him. At last he said, "I'm not going to leave you, Ivan."

Ivan lifted one hand to caress the side of Matthew's face. "I don't think that you would, but I do not want you to be unhappy."

Matthew sighed and squeezed Ivan's hand tightly in his own. "I know who I want, Ivan. I need you to trust me."

Ivan nodded. "I do trust you, Matvey." A lengthy and uncomfortable silence followed. It was clear Ivan had more to say, but seemed uncertain about how to go forward.

Matthew bit back his frustration and probed further. If this was going to be a concern, it would be best to talk it out now. "But?"

"If you did feel… attached… you might not have to choose."

Matthew blinked slowly, trying to process what Ivan had just said. "Excuse me?"

"I thought about it," Ivan continued, "And if things got to a point where you were interested in being with Alfred again… you could be."

"Are you telling me to _cheat_ on you if it strikes my fancy?" Matthew asked, feeling incredulity swelling inside him.

"Nyet," Ivan countered with a shake of his heat. "It would not be cheating."

"Then what?" Matthew asked, gesturing forcefully with his hands. "You'd be willing to _share_ me?"

Ivan shrugged. "That is one possibility, though if that were the case I think it would be best if Alfred and I worked to build a strong friendship."

Matthew tried, with limited success, to keep from gaping at his boyfriend. "And what would other possibilities be? Are you saying you're willing to _date_ Alfred too?!"

"I would be open to exploring that if you and he would," Ivan confessed. "but we'd all have to agree and feel comfortable with what we were doing."

Matthew, overwhelmed, turned around, trying to get some distance from this conversation. Ivan thought he would walk away, but he didn't. Hesitantly, Ivan reached forward and placed a hand on Matthew's shoulder. He could feel muscles bunching uncomfortably under his hand, but Matthew did not push him away. "I will not run from something just because it is difficult," Ivan murmured. "And pretending that something does not exist will not protect you from it."

Matthew sighed, and finally leaned into Ivan's touch, allowed himself to be pulled back against Ivan's chest. "Not running from something doesn't mean you have to go charging headlong into it," he said, placing his arms over Ivan's, which wound around his middle.

"I am not charging blindly," Ivan countered. "I have given this considerable thought."

Matthew pressed his lips together in a thin, unhappy line. He didn't doubt Ivan's words. He didn't seem to do anything without carefully considering his actions, at least since Matthew had gotten to know him better. Even so, the idea was upsetting. He'd worked _so_ hard to get over Alfred. He was in a very different place now, and he didn't want anyone thinking that he had _any_ intention of getting back together with him. "Alfred's not part of my life anymore," Matthew murmured, looking down at his and Ivan's joined hands. "Not romantically, anyway."

"I had to let you know what I saw, and what I thought it might lead too," Ivan murmured, his arms tightening slightly around Matthew.

Matthew nodded. "I know." He sighed and turned in Ivan's arms so he could look at him properly. "It's not like I didn't realize my talking with Alfred again could make you uncomfortable. I just…he's working on some really difficult things right now. He's offered several olive branches and I don't want to throw that back in his face. Obviously our friendship can't be what it was, but I don't want to shut him out of my life."

"I would never ask you to," Ivan assured him, trailing his fingers along the side of Matthew's cheek.

"You don't have to worry about me, Ivan," Matthew murmured, his voice low and calm once more. "I'll always let you know what I'm thinking or feeling."

Ivan's gaze swept thoughtfully over Matthew's face, "I trust you, Matvey."

"Good." Matthew leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to Ivan's lips.

Ivan pulled back with a smile and a sigh. "So does this mean I should stop researching threesomes?"

A wash of red swept over Matthew's face. "Ivan!" he protested. He _knew_ Ivan was joking, trying to lighten the mood. Even so, he had to ask, "Have you really?!"

Ivan chuckled and shrugged. "A little casual research maybe? I mean this isn't the first time it crossed my mind, but before it was just fantasy."

"It still is a fantasy," Matthew groaned softly and pressed his forehead into Ivan's chest, feeling the rumbles of Ivan's continued laughter. "I promise, you'll be the first to know if I feel anything for Alfred or anyone else," Matthew continued, looking back up at Ivan, "but you don't have anything to worry about. I value what we've built here, what we're continuing to build. I don't want to walk away from that, regardless of my friendship with Alfred or anyone else."

Ivan leaned down and pressed a short, chaste kiss to Matthew's lips. "Alfred is a good person."

Matthew looked thoughtfully at him for a moment before a hesitant smile blossomed over his features. "Yeah, he is. So are you." Matthew leaned up and Ivan met him in a long, slow kiss. Their lips parted and their tongues gently pushed against each other, teasing, exploring.

A soft noise of contentment, not quite a moan, became a half startled gasp when Matthew felt Ivan push against him, steering him back towards the bed. Matthew gave way to the pressure, letting Ivan push him back. He thought that Ivan might lift him up onto the bed as he had before, but he did not. Instead Ivan spun him around and sat on the mattress himself. Matthew moved to seat himself on Ivan's lap, but was stopped by the pressure of Ivan's hands against his hips.

Ivan eased him back, breaking off their kiss. Matthew opened his eyes and found Ivan staring at him hungrily, looking every bit as flushed as Matthew felt. Ivan leaned forward until his lips brushed Matthew's ear and he murmured, "Strip for me."

Matthew felt his flush deepen, but he nodded. He and Ivan were still exploring and learning what each other liked and didn't like. They had talked about their preferences at length, so Ivan knew that, from time to time, Matthew liked being ordered around, so long as he always had the option to refuse.

Matthew had never made a habit of stripping for Alfred, but it had happened once or twice, and Matthew felt he still knew how, more or less. He stepped away from Ivan, keeping their eyes locked as he reached for the button of his trousers. Matthew's fingers moved slowly, drawing out the process, building anticipation. At last the button released and he shifted his fingers to the zipper, pulling it down with deliberate slowness. When his zipper was completely undone, Matthew pulled at the fabric of his trousers, exaggerating the gap, then lifted his hands away, pulling idly at the collar of his shirt.

Ivan shifted on the mattress. Matthew glanced down and smirked at the growing bulge he could just barely distinguish. Pleased to know that Ivan was affected, Matthew made an elaborate process of drawing his arms through the sleeves of his shirt and gently peeling it away from his torso. Matthew lifted and extended his arms, pulling the shirt over his head, and letting it fall, discarded, behind him.

Ivan's gaze, which had drifted down to Matthew's exposed chest, returned with a frightening intensity that left Matthew feeling pinned. He stilled for a moment before slowly shifting, stepping closer to Ivan.

"You are not undressed," Ivan protested softly, but his smile belied his words.

"I will be," Matthew promised, stepping forward again and allowing the movement of his hips to pull his trousers precariously low. One further step and the fabric slipped and pooled around Matthew's knees, revealing the skin of his thighs. With some dexterous manipulation of his toes Matthew managed to remove his socks and tug first one leg, then the other, free from their confinement. At last Matthew's legs brushed against Ivan's, and he reached out to rest a hand on Ivan's shoulder.

"Still dressed, Matvey," Ivan murmured, even as he leaned forward to accept a kiss from Matthew, and his hand reached around, settling firmly over the fabric of Matthew's boxers.

"I'm getting there," Matthew replied as he pulled back, smiling at Ivan. Matthew hooked his thumbs in the fabric of his boxers, and then slowly turned so that his back was facing Ivan. With deliberate slowness Matthew pushed the fabric down, bending over slightly as he did so, presenting Ivan with a very intimate view.

Matthew fought a blush that wanted to break free, with moderate success, before discarding his boxers, straightening his back, and peeking at Ivan over his shoulder. Ivan smirked back at him and reached out to pull Matthew into his lap. Matthew jolted in surprise at the sudden movement, but quickly settled, leaning back against Ivan's chest.

Ivan wrapped his arms around Matthew, holding him firmly in place. He spread his own legs wide, forcing Matthew's knees apart. Matthew gasped and arched in his hold, but offered no protest. Ivan smiled and swept his hand over Matthew's chest, caressing him. Matthew leaned his head back over Ivan's shoulder and captured his lips in a forceful, hungry kiss. One of Ivan's hands strayed tantalizing low on Matthew's belly, while the other moved up, rubbing over Matthew's nipples.

Matthew gasped as Ivan broke away from his mouth to press biting kisses along his jaw and into the curve of his neck. Matthew was pliant in Ivan's arms, turning his head to allow Ivan more access. Ivan rocked up into Matthew, drawing a soft moan from his lips. He wanted Matthew badly. He hoped to have him, but first things first.

Ivan's fingers brushed lightly against Matthew's cock, and Ivan smirked into Matthew's neck when he felt the heated flesh jump at the touch.

"Ivan!" Matthew protested, scooting forward in Ivan's lap, towards the retreating fingers, leaving a gap of several inches between Ivan's chest and his own back. Ivan smiled when he felt the movement.

"Feeling a little hot and bothered, Matvey?" Ivan asked, wrapping his long fingers around Matthew's cock and stroking the rigid flesh, watching a glisten of precum collect at the tip.

Matthew gasped and rocked into Ivan's hand, his back arched, his head pressed firmly into Ivan's shoulder. "Yes!"

Ivan stroked Matthew leisurely, giving relief, but not pushing him too far. His free hand darted out to the bedside table to retrieve the lube. He flipped the lid open with his thumb and reached around Matthew to spread some over his heated flesh, using first one, then two hands to spread the lubrication.

Matthew was moaning loudly now, the muscles in his body drawing tighter with each movement of Ivan's wrists. Ivan pulled one hand away then, and insinuated it between Matthew and himself, his slick fingers searching out Matthew's entrance. Matthew rocked in Ivan's lap, pushing down against the first finger as it entered him.

"Ivan!" Matthew gasped.

"Matvey." Ivan's voice rumbled deep and gravely in Matthew's ear. Matthew was so eager, so energetic on his lap that it wasn't long before Ivan pushed a second finger inside Matthew, curling them as he pushed in so that they brushed against his prostate.

Matthew cried out and jolted in Ivan's arms, his head lolling back over Ivan's shoulder, his body taught as a bowstring. Ivan licked his lips and breathed into Matthew's ear. "I wish I had a mirror along the far wall."

"Wh-ah! What are you talking about?" The flush cover Matthew's cheeks deepened considerable, and crept down his neck to his chest.

"You're spread open like this, almost on display..." Ivan continued, his hands working in tandem to pleasure Matthew's leaking cock and tight passage. "I can feel your muscles clenching around me. I would love to see the expression on your face, and the view of your body from the front."

Matthew moaned loudly, rocking into Ivan's hands, grateful that there was no mirror. He knew they had to make quite a sight. He felt exposed like this, vulnerable. Actually being caught or observed would be mortifying, but the _idea_ of being caught or seen like this... _did_ things to him. Matthew felt his cock twitch in Ivan's hand as Ivan pressed in a third finger, and he reached behind himself, feebly gripping Ivan's hips for support.

Ivan's teeth grazed Matthew's neck and he tilted his head, leaning into the onslaught of sensations rippling along his nerves. Ivan's hand on his cock was so slick with lube it felt almost like a mouth.

Once that thought entered Matthew's brain, it was followed quickly by _whose_ mouth could be there. Before Matthew could will it away, his brain was painting an image of Alfred there, with them, on his knees between both their legs.

Matthew moaned, rocking forcefully into Ivan's hand. He could _feel_ precum dribbling out and down the sides of his cock. Behind him Ivan growled softly, scraping Matthew's neck with his teeth. He'd seen, he'd _felt_ Matthew's reaction.

Matthew cursed his brain, and the conversation he'd just had with Ivan, but the vision remained firmly in place in his mind's eye. Despite their rocky ending, there was a time when Alfred had looked at him with the same hunger Ivan held him with now. Alfred, who was always up for new experiences, had been more open and adventurous in bed then Matthew had ever thought to be. He'd never pushed Matthew to do something he didn't want to do, but assuming the opportunity for a menage a trois had presented itself, and Matthew had been willing, Alfred wouldn't have backed down. If anything, Matthew could see such a situation bringing out Alfred's competitive side. He'd be pushing himself to pleasure Matthew, to be the center of attention, to be the first to make Matthew cum.

A shiver ran down Matthew's spine when he felt Ivan's fingers withdraw from inside him, followed shortly by the low sound of Ivan's zipper being pulled down. Ivan was very dexterous. His hand never faltered on Matthew's cock while his other aligned himself at Matthew's entrance. Unbidden Matthew's mind supplied an image of a flush faced Alfred working his lips and tongue over Matthew's cock, refusing to be ignored, even as Ivan pushed into Matthew from behind.

Matthew cried out in pleasure and bucked against Ivan, fighting a smile of satisfaction when he felt Ivan's bruising grip on his hip. Hell, this fictitious threesome would probably bring out Ivan's competitive side too… another shiver rippled through Matthew and he heard Ivan groan as he clenched his innermost muscles. _Fuck._ He hadn't intended to picture Alfred, but the image refused to go now that it was here and _damn_ if it wasn't driving him to the edge quickly.

"Matvey," Ivan growled low in his throat, and pushed roughly inside Matthew. Ivan twisted his hand along Matthew's cock, and with a strangled half-cry of Ivan's name, Matthew spilled his sticky release over Ivan's hand, his clenching muscles pulling Ivan's own release from him.

Matthew's limbs started to shake and Ivan pulled him back onto the bed, laying them both on their sides as they caught their breath. Shaken by the images his imagination had supplied, and his own reaction to them, Matthew wriggled around in Ivan's arms and drew him in for a shaky, sloppy kiss, trying to fill his senses with Ivan and _only_ Ivan.


	25. Confined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving on is hard to do when your heart refuses to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 25: Confined

 

 

_It's good to be thorough and all, but I swear Ludwig is just repeating himself now..._

_Think I could ever convince Gilbert to show me how he hides and uses those little squirt guns for the really boring meetings?_

_I promise I would use the knowledge only for the greater good._

Fighting a smile, Matthew did his best to text his reply as discreetly as possible.

_Alfred, Gilbert doesn't do that…anymore._

Alfred's response was lightning fast, and Matthew _swore_ he could hear Alfred snickering from the other side of the meeting table.

_Are you suuuure?;)_

It took several moments of measured breathing before Matthew could convince himself _not_ to laugh. When he felt it was safe he typed out: _Please stop. I really don't want to get a lecture from Ludwig if he catches us texting._

Matthew saw Alfred give him the barest of nods, then felt the buzz of his phone as a notification came in.

 _Sure thing, Mattie_.

True to his word, Alfred didn't send Matthew any other texts for the duration of the meeting. In fact he didn't seem to send any other texts at all. Despite his silent complaint of boredom, he seemed to be putting forth a concentrated effort to pay attention and participate.

It was the first meeting of the summer world conference. Francis was hosting this year and, after a brief introduction, he'd allowed Ludwig to take the lead. Matthew still couldn't believe how much had changed this year. Last summer he hadn't even been _speaking_ to Alfred, and now… Well, he'd never imagined things would be as easy as they were between them in so short a period of time.

It was a good thing, of course it was. Alfred was doing well, and seemed to be more himself each time Matthew saw him. Not only that, but Alfred was showing a patience and dedication in his work that had been missing for a long time. It had been months since Matthew had heard the barest mention of Alfred being late for a meeting or behind on a deadline. They had even started speaking regularly over video chat, and sometimes competing against each other in an online videogame. Ivan sometimes joined them, either virtually, or in person with Matthew.

Ivan hadn't mentioned anymore...suggestions. Even so, that one conversation they did have haunted Matthew every time Alfred beamed at him, or he found himself trembling with laughter at one of Alfred's outlandish comments. It was good that they were growing closer, rebuilding their friendship, but they were _just_ friends. Alfred hadn't pushed any boundaries; it was charming how hard he was trying to be respectful and mindful. Regardless, Matthew still felt it necessary to clarify his position. He and Alfred both had a period of free time after this meeting, and Matthew intended to get Alfred alone so they could talk.

A hand pressed against his, and Matthew turned towards Ivan, who was looking at him with an expression of soft concern. "Alright, Matvey?" Ivan asked, leaning close to murmur in his ear so they wouldn't disturb the meeting.

Matthew nodded. "Just thinking. I have to talk to Alfred after this meeting."

Ivan frowned, creating little furrows along his forehead. "I didn't think you had a meeting with him so soon."

"I don't," Matthew replied, keeping his voice low. He saw Ludwig's gaze shift in their direction, and the pointed look he shot them. Matthew smiled and nodded, then whispered back to Ivan. "It's something personal, not really a big deal. I'll fill you in over lunch?"

Ivan nodded and leaned back in his chair, giving Matthew's hand a supportive squeeze. He didn't seem the slightest bit concerned, and Matthew hoped that was true. Ivan could be hard to read at times, even after so many months of getting to know each other.

Time seemed to drag onward, and Matthew did his best not to fidget in his seat, his patience bolstered by the steady pressure of Ivan's hand against his. Matthew did his best to give the closing remarks as much attention as he should, but he was so preoccupied that it was impossible. The moment Ludwig brought the meeting to a close Matthew looked over at Ivan with a nervous smile. "See you soon."

Ivan nodded and squeezed Matthew's hand once more; neither of them was particularly fond of public displays of affection. "See you at lunch, Matvey. I hope you have a good talk."

Releasing Ivan's hand with a parting squeeze of his own, Matthew stood and made his way across the room to Alfred.

Alfred, who was speaking to Arthur, had his back turned and didn't see Matthew's speedy approach. He turned the moment he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and smiled broadly when he found Matthew waiting for him. "Hey, Mattie. What's up?"

"Do you have a few minutes to talk?" Matthew asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. There was no reason to be nervous really, he was just reaffirming what they both already knew.

"For you? Always." Alfred glanced over his shoulder and said his goodbyes to Arthur before following Matthew out of the room. Alfred seemed as relaxed and easy as usual, casually greeting people as they passed, but he stayed true to his word, and refused to be distracted, staying close to Matthew every step of the way. Matthew led him down a few long hallways until he found an unused conference room; he ushered Alfred inside.

Once they were alone Matthew turned to face Alfred and saw that his expression was focused and earnest. He had to be picking up on Matthew's nervous energy, a thought which was confirmed a moment later when Alfred leaned forward and asked, "Everything okay, Mattie?"

Matthew nodded, linking his own hands together in front of him. "Yes, I just wanted to talk."

Alfred's hands twitched at his sides like he wanted to reach out and lay a hand on Matthew's shoulder, or take Matthew's hand in his, but he did neither. Alfred only leaned a bit closer and, with a slight frown, said, "I'm all ears."

Matthew took a steadying breath and lifted his eyes to Alfred's. He'd meant to explain why he wanted to talk, outline his basic points-yes he had actually written them down at some point when he was considering having this conversation-but when his eyes locked with Alfred's worried ones that plan changed. Alfred was hard enough on himself. Ivan had pointed that out to Matthew on more than one occasion, and Matthew couldn't help but see the truth of it. He wasn't having this conversation to tear Alfred down. If anything Matthew wanted to talk for his own peace of mind. So instead of any carefully prepared speech, what Matthew said was, "I think you're doing a really great job, Alfred."

Alfred nodded slowly, his eyes scanning Matthew's face. "But…?"

Matthew fought the urge to flinch and look away. He did have other things to say, but he didn't want any of what he had to share to discount the monumental efforts Alfred had undertaken to change his life for the better. "There is no 'but'," Matthew protested, reaching out a hand to grasp Alfred's arm. "You've been working really hard and it shows. I'm proud of you."

Alfred's expression softened and his lips parted. "Really?"

Matthew nodded enthusiastically. "Really."

A smile curled at the edges of Alfred's lips. "Even though I was texting during the meeting?"

"Alfred, you're smart enough to text a little and still follow the meeting. You just…weren't using that intelligence for a while."

Alfred nodded, his smile fading as quickly as it had come. "It fucking sucks thinking about how out of control I was, how many people I hurt."

Matthew slipped his hand down Alfred's arm and squeezed his hand. "It's over now."

Alfred nodded. "Over for good," he affirmed. Alfred lifted their joined hands slightly, and then abruptly halted the movement, as though he thought better of his actions.

Matthew smiled slightly, squeezed Alfred's hand, and then eased their joined hands back down. He suspected Alfred might have been about to kiss his hands, not an uncommon gesture in the early days of their relationship when they were happy together, but wholly inappropriate now. They both knew that, and the fact that Alfred had so quickly aborted the gesture reflected his own awareness of their new boundaries. Matthew had nothing to be concerned about, and he _wasn't_ concerned... but he still felt he needed to explicitly state how he felt.

"There is…one other thing I wanted to share with you," Matthew began, "And I want you to understand that this is about _me_ , not about anything you've done."

Alfred nodded, and Matthew saw slight hints of a frown showing on his features. He pressed on. "I didn't really expect us to be able to talk again when I left, not like this. I'm glad that we can, I'm glad to have you as a friend, Alfred. I know you know this, but I just have to say it out loud that _friends_ is all we can be. It took me a long time to feel okay again, for lots of reasons, and I'm very happy in my relationship with Ivan." Matthew swallowed and licked his lips before finishing with, "I love him."

"Mattie, I had no right to ask for your friendship after how badly I treated you," Alfred began, his voice trembling slightly and his expression earnest. Alfred's grip on his hand was tight, almost crushing, but Matthew didn't complain. "I recognize that I sort of asked for your friendship anyway with how I kept contacting you, and I'm so grateful that you didn't push me away. It's more than I deserve."

Matthew shook his head. "You're a good person, Alfred. Don't beat yourself up forever."

The hint of a smile flickered over Alfred's features. "I'll do my best." He adjusted his hold on Matthew's hands, loosening his grip and rubbing his thumb over the back of Matthew's hand. "You don't have to worry about me, Mattie. I know we're just friends, and I respect that." Alfred drew a shaky breath and added, "You're really happy with Ivan; it's easy to see that. I would never want to do anything to mess that up for you. You deserve to be happy."

"You do, too," Matthew breathed, not trusting himself to speak any louder.

Alfred inched forward then halted, clearly holding himself back. "Thank you."

Matthew stepped forward, pulling Alfred into his arms, cementing the hug he'd seen Alfred back away from. There was no danger in an innocent show of support, and they both needed it right now. "You're welcome."

After a moment's hesitation, Alfred's arms wound tightly around Matthew, holding him close and actually lifting him off the ground a little. Breathing wasn't the easiest thing to do in that moment, but Matthew couldn't care less. "Thank you for letting me talk this out," he wheezed. "You didn't need the reminder, but I needed to say it."

Alfred nodded, his nose brushing against Matthew's neck as he did so. "Anytime, Mattie."

They held the hug for a long moment before Matthew felt Alfred's muscles ease, and his own feet regain their footing. With a small amount of reluctance, Matthew drew back, and Alfred mirrored him, turning his head away for a moment to swipe at his eyes. "We should probably head back to the conference," Alfred murmured when he looked back over to Matthew. "I don't want Ivan to get jealous or anything."

"You don't have to worry about Ivan," Matthew assured him, trying not to think about how painfully true that statement was as they both made their way to the door. He could understand why Ivan's anxieties may have prompted him to propose what he had, but it had been a completely unnecessary suggestion. He wasn't about to go mooning over Alfred just because they were friends again. No, everything was _just_ as it should be.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Alfred rounded the corner towards the lobby of the hotel. Today was the third day of the summer world conference and Matthew had invited Alfred to join him and Ivan for dinner. Alfred, after looking to Ivan and seeing no sign of protest, had readily accepted. It was only after he'd agreed that he started to have second thoughts. Sure, he'd started spending some time with Ivan and Matthew online, casually, but… Would it be weird to spend time with them in person? He knew he would feel like a third wheel regardless of how reserved Ivan and Matthew were. Alfred knew all too well that his noble assertions were belied by the solid weight of skin-warmed metal against his chest…

Alfred's footsteps slowed when he saw Ivan leaning against the far wall of the lobby, already waiting. There was no sign of Matthew and for a moment Alfred was tempted to turn around. He didn't, both because he didn't want to break his word, and because Ivan had already seen him and lifted a hand in greeting. It shouldn't be weird to speak to Ivan alone for a few minutes. Ivan and he had been friends once. It was true that politics and a less than friendly rivalry had created a rift between them, but Alfred knew the only thing holding him back at the moment was his own guilty conscience.

Ivan pushed off the wall and greeted Alfred as soon as he was within hearing range. "Good evening."

Alfred nodded. "Hey, man. What's up?"

"It's been a long day," Ivan admitted with a tired smile. "What about you?"

"Same here," Alfred agreed. "But that's the nature of a world conference right?"

"It seems so," Ivan replied, glancing at the large clock mounted above the reception desk. "Matvey's last meeting is running a bit late; he just texted me to let me know."

"It's cool," Alfred said, "I'm in no rush."

Alfred's smile was just a bit too wide, and his posture a bit too stiff. They were subtle signs of his discomfort, but they were not lost on Ivan. How could they be? Ivan was too familiar with misery not to see it readily in others, especially when they were trying to hide it.

Out of respect for Matthew's wishes, Ivan hadn't repeated any of his concerns about Matthew's connection to Alfred. He still felt Matthew might be protesting too vehemently to allow himself to recognize his own feelings, but time would tell. Perhaps Ivan had been wrong. If so, he didn't regret sharing his concerns and suggestions with Matthew; however shocking they may have appeared, Ivan had given the matter considerable thought. And if he was right…well Ivan still hoped something could be worked out that would leave everyone happy.

In the meantime though, it was obvious that Alfred was suffering. Ivan couldn't, in any good conscience, be as forthright with Alfred as he'd been with Matthew; that really would be jumping the gun. At the same time, that didn't mean he had to let Alfred suffer in silence.

"I know the way to the meeting room Matvey is in," Ivan began, "If you like, we could walk there. We'll probably meet him on his way to us."

Alfred shrugged. "Sure. That'll probably save time since we haven't decided on a place to eat yet."

They set off together down one of the hotel's hallways, walking in silence as Ivan led the way past other personified nations and humans that were currently inhabiting the hotel. After a short time the crowds thinned, and they arrived in a secluded corner at the end of a long hallway of conference rooms. Ivan stopped and turned to face Alfred. "Matvey's meeting is just down the hall. This is a good place to wait. We can't miss him."

Alfred nodded and promptly leaned himself against the wall. After a long moment's silence he sighed and turned his head to stare out of the nearby window. "And the waiting begins," he murmured to no one in particular, tapping his fingers idly on his thigh.

"I don't resent you for loving him."

Alfred's fingers stopped mid-tap and, very slowly, he turned to look at Ivan, his expression carefully neutral. "E-excuse me?"

"I said," Ivan continued in the same soft voice he had spoken in moments ago, "that I don't resent you for loving him."

A nervous smile flickered across Alfred's features, and his fingers lifted to fiddle with the metal chain on his neck, careful not to lift the end of the chain out from under his shirt. It wasn't the first time Ivan had seen the gesture, but now he felt he understood its meaning.

"I don't know what you mean, dude," Alfred said with a shrug and a hollow laugh.

It was such an obvious lie, and Ivan could let it go, but that wouldn't actually help _anyone_. "No?" Ivan stepped closer to Alfred and reached out to grab the metal chain that Alfred was currently fingering

"Dude!" Alfred slid violently along the wall and into the corner, eyes wide with fear. His legs looked unstable underneath him, but he managed to stay standing. His feet pushed feebly at the floor in an effort to straighten up, and he looked more than a little panicked, even as he said, "Personal space, Ivan. Give me a little breathing room here?"

Ivan remained where he was, almost, but not quite boxing Alfred in. "This is not about personal space."

"Yes it is!" Alfred hissed, making a shooing gesture with one hand, while his other maintained its iron grip on the chain around his neck.

Ivan reached forward again, but much more slowly than before and at a slightly different angle so that his fingers brushed against Alfred's wrist. Alfred flinched back from the touch, his knuckles turning white under the strain of his hold on the chain. "What are you holding onto?"

"Nothing!" Alfred's high pitched and forceful reply was too theatric to be believed.

"If it is nothing, why are you holding on so tightly?" Ivan kept his voice calm and low. He didn't want to _frighten_ Alfred, but he didn't want him to feel alone in his pain either. Ivan knew all too well what that sort of crippling loneliness did to ones state of mind. "What don't you want me to see?"

"It's personal!" Alfred insisted, hunching his shoulders, and turning into the corner for protection. "It's none of your business!"

"Alfred—"

"It's a medical necklace!" Alfred hissed, desperation rippling through his voice and over his muscles. "I didn't listen to Artie, and I developed diabetes, just like he said I would."

"Hiding medical jewelry will not keep you safe," Ivan continued in a low tone that he hoped would be comforting.

"It's personal!" Alfred repeated, and then in a softer, more tremulous voice, "I don't want people to judge me…"

Slowly, gently, Ivan placed his hand on Alfred's shoulder and murmured, "I don't resent you for loving Matvey, Alfred."

Alfred squeezed his eyes tightly shut and shrank in on himself, sliding down the wall until he was crouched in the fetal position, whispering, "You should… you _really_ should…"

Ivan knelt with Alfred, keeping his hand gently pressed against Alfred's trembling shoulder.

"You've been working hard to make amends for your mistakes," Ivan murmured, heedless of Alfred furiously shaking his head 'no'. "You've been a good friend to Matvey. That is nothing to resent."

" _This_ is," Alfred whispered, pulling the long chain free from his shirt with shaking fingers. At the end of it hung two plain platinum bands, one larger, one slightly smaller. Ivan recognized them for what they were instantly.

"Matvey and your wedding rings," he murmured, not really surprised. He had been expecting something like that.

"I'm sorry," Alfred whispered. "I know, I _know_ I shouldn't, I'm _sorry_ …"

Ivan squeezed Alfred's shoulder gently and repeated the sentiment that had sparked this intense conversation. "I don't resent you for loving him."

Alfred sighed and leaned back against Ivan's hand on his shoulder, finally accepting some of the support being offered. He swiped furiously at his eyes before chancing a glance over his shoulder. "I don't understand you sometimes."

"We can't go on being rivals," Ivan began. "You are working to rebuild a friendship with Matvey, it only makes sense for us to try to be friends again too."

Tears spilled over Alfred's lashes and he wiped viciously at them, sniffling softly. "I don't deserve friends like you…"

Ivan inched a bit closer, pulling Alfred back into a lose embrace. " _Everyone_ deserves good friends."

Alfred clutched at Ivan's arm with both hands, but did not push him away. After a long still moment Alfred sniffled again and murmured, "Thank you."

When Matthew _finally_ slipped out of his final conference, Alfred was subdued and red-eyed, but more or less composed, the chain around his neck tucked neatly under his shirt once more. Matthew spotted Ivan and Alfred immediately, and, saying one last goodbye to Francis over his shoulder, trotted forward to meet them. "Hey guys, sorry you had to wait so long."

"Is not a problem," Ivan assured him.

Alfred nodded and offered a smile that looked suspiciously watery to Matthew. "It's all good, Mattie."

Matthew glanced back and forth between Ivan and Alfred for a moment before he asked, "Are you both okay?"

Alfred looked pointedly away, down the hall, but Ivan stepped forward and replied for both of them. "It has been a very long day."

"Yeah," Alfred agreed his voice oddly husky.

"We were just discussing places to eat," Ivan continued. "Do you have any suggestions?"

Matthew reluctantly pulled his gaze away from Alfred and looked to Ivan with a quizzical frown. Ivan however, was silent and smiling, waiting for Matthew's answer. It was possible Ivan didn't know why Alfred was upset, or if he did, he was trying to draw attention away from it. Resolving to ask for more details later, Matthew glanced at the window and gave the idea of dinner serious consideration. His eyes swept over what he could see of the landscape outside and said, "There's a place that does good burgers and shakes within walking distance," he suggested. "You might remember it, Alfred; we went there the last time we were visiting Francis.

Alfred frowned in thought for a moment before looking over at Matthew. "Le Ruisseau?"

Matthew's smile widened and he nodded. "That's the one. Do you want to go?"

Alfred's face lightened considerably. He glanced over at Ivan who nodded his consent and said, "Maybe between the two of us we can convince Matvey to eat a proper meal?"

Alfred snorted with brief, unexpected laughter. "Good luck with that, dude. Mattie's always picked at his food like a bird, unless it's dessert." He turned his head to look back at Matthew. "Admit it, Mattie, that's why you suggested Le Ruisseau, you just want to get your hands on their large, thick milkshakes."

Matthew chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Alfred, you got me." He stepped forward linked arms with Alfred, much to Alfred's surprise. "Care to indulge me?"

"Sure, Mattie, "Alfred agreed with a smile that was only slightly nervous. He glanced at Ivan, who stepped up beside Matthew and took his other arm. The halls of the hotel were more than wide enough to accommodate them as they walked, arm in arm in arm, out onto the street. The night was blissfully cool after the heat of the early summer day.

Alfred, doing his best to push the weighty discussion he'd recently had with Ivan out of his head, turned to Matthew and asked, "How did you're meeting go?"

Matthew chuckled and turned to beam at Alfred. "Francis and I are planning a surprise party for Arthur!"

"Oh?" Alfred asked intrigued.

Matthew nodded energetically. "That's why we had to stay late at the meeting. We were about to finish the meeting when Francis mentioned that he wanted to surprise Arthur with a party to celebrate their anniversary! Arthur's been insisting he doesn't want to make it a big deal, but it's their 200th anniversary of their wedding! Francis asked my opinion and I told him I thought Arthur actually would like a small party of close friends, but a big over the top one would be overwhelming. Francis extended our meeting because it would be one of the only times we could plan without Arthur getting suspicious."

"Good thinking, Mattie. When's the party?"

"The last day of the world conference. Francis wasn't sure if he was going to plan anything until today, but it should be fine. It'll just be you, me, Ivan, Ludwig, Gilbert, Feliciano, and a few of the other commonwealth countries and their families. Maybe twenty personified nations? We're all already here, and the hotel has a banquet hall we can use. Francis is going to call in some favors for the catering, and after the party he wants to take Arthur on a river cruise along the Seine."

"That's very romantic," Ivan agreed. "Will he need any help with decorations?"

"Wait—I'm invited?" Alfred asked, pulling Matthew's attention back to him.

"Of course," Matthew replied with a confused smile. "Why wouldn't you be?"

"I dunno," Alfred replied, glancing away for a moment. "I didn't think I was Arthur, or anyone's favorite person right now."

Matthew nudged Alfred, but without any real force or malice behind it. "Don't be stupid, Alfred. Francis and Arthur both have been talking about how nice it is to hear from you regularly, and how much more focused you've been on your work lately."

"Sounds like you're being too hard on yourself, Alfred," Ivan mused, a wry smile curling the edges of his lips.

"Don't you start," Matthew retorted, turning his head to look at Ivan in mock accusation. "You're just as bad sometimes."

"We all are," Ivan agreed, unabashedly, rushing both Alfred and Matthew across the final street to the door of Le Ruisseau.

Matthew, being the only one of the three of them fluent in French, spoke for them. Soon they were seated at a small round table pressed up against the restaurant's large front window, which afforded them a flattering view of the street outside. The waiter passed out the menus, and Matthew spread his flat on the table's surface, pointing and translating different menu items for the other two. Alfred chose a cheddar and bacon cheeseburger with a medium cookies and cream shake, Matthew selected a Swiss cheese and mushroom burger and a large chocolate raspberry shake, and Ivan ordered a blackened blue cheese burger with a small mint shake and a glass of water.

"So what about you guys?" Matthew asked, after the waiter took their orders. "How was your day?"

Ivan and Alfred shared a glance before turning back to Matthew and simultaneously replying, "Long."

Matthew squinted in annoyance, his mouth a thin, unsatisfied line. "Thanks guys, real descriptive."

Alfred chuckled and clapped Matthew lightly on the shoulder. "It's a world conference, dude. It's a lot of work. Not all of us can plan epic surprise parties at our meetings."

Matthew grumbled softly before he relented with, "Fair enough. What are your plans for after the world conference, Alfred?"

Alfred shrugged. "Well, I have an internal meeting in Texas when I get back, and then I'm flying back to D.C. to catch up on paperwork."

"And for fun?" Matthew pressed.

Another shrug. "I'm going to read on the plane, try to hit some AA meetings in Texas and D.C. I've also got a meeting with my sponsor to continue my step work."

Matthew frowned and reached across the table to cover Alfred's hand with his own. "Try to work in some down time that's just for you, yeah?"

Beside them, Ivan nodded. "Da. Is not healthy to work too much, Alfred."

Alfred glanced between them, a small reluctant smile on his lips. "Thanks guys. I'll take that under advisement."

Matthew shook his head, not satisfied. "See a movie," he insisted.

Alfred chuckled and nodded his acquiescence. "Alright, alright. I'll see a movie. Should I write up a report about it afterward?"

Matthew nudged Alfred in protest, which only caused Alfred to laugh harder.

"Do not fight in the restaurant," Ivan chided gently, and then both Alfred and Matthew were laughing.

Their food arrived a short while later, and there was a prolonged but comfortable silence as they each tucked into their meal. Ivan watched with quiet amusement as Alfred and Matthew wordlessly passed condiments between them, anticipating what the other would want before they could ask. Yes, their connection was still there, and whether it remained a friendship or evolved into something else, Ivan was surprised to find he was not jealous. Even if his bold suggestion to Matthew had been taken seriously, he had assumed jealousy would be something they would have to work through. It still might be, depending on how things worked out in the future, but for the moment he was gratified to see them both happy and relaxed.

A sharp trill disturbed Ivan's reverie and he pulled out his phone to check his messages, smiling softly when he saw a message from Iryna.

_See you tomorrow at 8, little brother._

"Was that Iryna?" Matthew asked, smiling at Ivan.

Ivan nodded. "Da, she was confirming for breakfast tomorrow."

Alfred frowned. "Iryna? Isn't that…Ukriane? Your sister?"

"Da," Ivan confirmed, putting his phone away. "We have been estranged until recently." It wasn't a topic Ivan was completely comfortable with, but he had been very serious when he'd offered his friendship to Alfred, and part of any healthy relationship, friendship or otherwise, was building trust. He doubted the Alfred before him would violate that trust. Six months ago, however, would have been a very different story.

"That sucks, dude," Alfred replied, concern creasing small lines around his face. "I'm glad you're talking again."

"Spasibo."

The small silence that followed was broken when Alfred asked, "What about you guys? What are you doing after the world conference?"

"We're going to stay at the hotel for a little while," Ivan replied, linking his hand with Matthew's and intertwining their fingers. "Matvey wanted to spend some time at my home in Moscow, but we travel so much already, we decided this would be easier."

Matthew smiled up and Ivan and added, "Actually, Francis said if we wanted, we could check out of the hotel early and use his townhouse since he and Arthur should be gone."

"I'd like that," Ivan replied. "Is different staying in a home as opposed to a hotel."

Alfred nodded, sipped at his shake, and looked determinedly out of the window. He was happy for Matthew, for both of them, of course he was, but he was also awash in his own regrets and…other feelings. He couldn't believe that Ivan had understood, had actually _comforted_ him. They'd had such a bitter rivalry for so many years, and now Ivan had more reasons than ever to hate him, and he didn't… It was beyond comprehension.

"Alfred?"

Alfred turned to look at Matthew who was leaning across the table towards him, frowning slightly. Alfred offered him a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I must have zoned out for a minute there. What were you saying?"

"I was asking if you wanted to be part of the group distracting Arthur while Francis and Ivan set up decorations and make final arrangements," Matthew explained.

"Me?" Alfred asked, frowning himself now in confusion.

Matthew nodded. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but it might be easier to keep him preoccupied if we're both there."

"Sure, I'd love to help," Alfred replied a hesitant smile creeping over his features. "What were you thinking of doing?"

"I'm not sure yet. Do you have any ideas?"

Alfred leaned his chin on his hands for a moment and considered their options. "We could grab Feli and take Arthur to Parc de Bagatelle. They have a beautiful rose garden. Alfred will complain that English roses are better, but I think he'll still like it. Plus Feli is always so enthusiastic; he'll be good company and encourage Arthur to stay as late as we need him to.

"That's a perfect idea! Good thinking, Al," Matthew replied, beaming across the table at his twin.

Ivan nodded. "Da, and with Feliciano busy, Ludwig and Gilbert will be able to help organize."

"Gilbert will be less than thrilled, but Ludwig should be in heaven," Alfred agreed, and they all chuckled softly.

"Friday afternoon is going to be so much fun. I can't wait to see the look on Arthur's face," Matthew mused, reaching for his shake and taking a long drink. When he had swallowed and set his glass down he added, "This has been fun too. We should spend time together more often."

Alfred blinked and looked uncertainly between Matthew and Ivan. It wasn't that he didn't agree, but… "Really? It's not weird for both of you to just hang out with me?"

"I've had a good time," Ivan protested. "I don't see why we can't see each other again."

Flushing slightly at Ivan's choice of words, Matthew leaned forward and clasped Alfred's hand with his free one. "Yeah, you're always welcome, Alfred."

Alfred squeezed Matthew's hand, glancing between Ivan and Matthew with a flattered smile. "Thank you, guys. I'd really like that."

"You know, I'm hosting the autumn world conference this year," Matthew observed. "If you wanted, we could spend some time together afterwards. I could make up the guest room for a night or two and we could all go hiking. What do you think?"

Alfred glanced again to Ivan, who nodded his assent. It was more than he deserved, and it was more than a little ill-advised considering the state of his heart…but he couldn't bring himself to refuse the offer. "I'm all yours."


	26. Catalyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actions speak louder than words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Surprise! I'm posting a day early because I'm about to get on a 6 hour flight (Help!) and I wanted to make sure I still posted the weekly update. I'll be away for a few days, so apologies if I'm a bit slower replying to comments than usual. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, subscribed to, and/or bookmarked my story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 26: Catalyst

 

Matthew zipped up his overnight bag and lifted both arms above his head in a full body stretch. The final meeting of the autumn conference had ended forty minutes ago and he and Ivan had returned to their shared hotel room to pack. Matthew still felt a bit guilty for using up precious hotel space when the autumn world conference was in his own country, but his Montreal home was currently being rented, and the days of the conference were so busy he hadn't wanted to drive back and forth from Ottawa to Montreal.

Strong arms wrapped around Matthew, pulling him back into Ivan's broad chest. He smiled and leaned into the embrace, closing his eyes and resting his head against Ivan's shoulder. "Ready to go?"

"Da," Ivan agreed, pressing a gentle kiss into the side of Matthew's neck. Matthew smiled and tilted his head to allow Ivan better access, enjoying the affection. Neither of them really engaged in public displays of affection, aside from holding hands, so these moments alone were all the more precious, especially since Alfred would be accompanying them back to Ottawa to spend a few nights. They were all going to hike the trails near Matthew's home the next day. It was a simple, short, friendly visit. Alfred planned to drive back to D.C. the next morning after breakfast. It had been all Ivan and Matthew could do to convince Alfred to stay for a second night.

Over the past six months Alfred had taken great strides to rebuild his relationship with Matthew. The last three months especially, they'd spoken and met regularly. It was strange. Time with Alfred had been very enjoyable. At times it was almost, _almost_ as if they'd never fought; except for the fact that they were just friends now. And yet, Matthew felt a hesitation in Alfred's words and actions. It was subtle, even for someone who knew Alfred so well, but it was…it was as if Alfred did _and_ didn't want to spend time with Matthew. He certainly sought out Matthew's friendship with the same energy and enthusiasm that had sparked his initial apology, but he seemed uncomfortable too.

Matthew couldn't pinpoint the cause of Alfred's anxiety, and that was frustrating. Nearly every time Alfred spent time with Matthew, Ivan, as well as occasional other friends, was present. Matthew and Ivan had, through unspoken agreement, been especially reserved about public displays of affection around Alfred, and Alfred had never once complained or commented. In fact, in addition to his subtle awkwardness, Alfred seemed to go out of his way to respect Matthew and Ivan's alone time. He checked with each of them in turn when they spent time together, as though a word from either of them would send him away in an instant.

Matthew didn't know what was bothering Alfred, but whatever it was, it had gone on long enough. He hoped to have some time alone with Alfred during this brief visit to talk about it, so that they could both put it behind them.

"We should get going then," Matthew mumbled regretfully. "Alfred will be waiting."

Ivan maneuvered for one more chaste kiss to Matthew's lips before pulling back and moving to pick up his own bag. They walked together out of the room, down the hall, and to the stairs. Alfred was already waiting for them in the lobby. His bag was slung casually over his shoulder while he spoke with Francis and Arthur.

Arthur noticed their approach first, smiled and lifted his hand in greeting. Francis was too involved in showing Alfred something on his phone to look up.

"Matthew," Arthur began, "Ivan, good afternoon." Francis waved a distracted hello, and Alfred shot Ivan and Matthew a shy smile before returning his attention to Francis' phone.

"Hello Arthur," Matthew said, adjusting his bag on his shoulders and leaning forward to hug Arthur.

Arthur patted Matthew on the back with an affectionate smile, then turned to shake hands with Ivan, who murmured his own greeting.

"Are you and papa going to stick around for a while?" Matthew asked.

Arthur nodded. "For a few days at least. Francis tried to talk me into staying longer, but I couldn't justify it after he dragged me on that cruise last time. I had a few weeks of work to catch up on when I came back."

Francis looked up and winked suggestively at Arthur. "But we had a good time, non?"

The faintest pink blush colored Arthur's cheeks and he nodded. "We did."

Alfred looked up, grinning, and handed Francis' phone back to him. "Beautiful pictures guys; I'm glad you had a good time.

"Merci, Alfred," Francis replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket with one hand and reaching for Arthur's hand with the other.

"Are you all heading out?" Arthur asked, scanning Matthew, Ivan, and Alfred in turn, noting the bags they carried.

Matthew nodded. "Alfred is coming with us back to Ottawa for a few days."

"Wonderful idea," Francis said with an easy smile. "The woods around your home are beautiful, Matthieu. I hope you all enjoy yourselves."

Matthew nodded and leaned forward to give Francis a hug and kiss on the cheek, a gesture which Francis returned. "Merci, papa." He turned to look at Arthur as well. "I hope you both have a good time too."

The two groups said their goodbyes and the trio made their way out into the parking lot to their respective cars. Arthur and Francis watched them go, hearing Alfred's parting call of, "I know the way; don't worry if we get separated. Drive safe guys!"

Francis and Arthur shared a thoughtful look.

"They're getting along well," Arthur observed, confusion and suspicion warring in his eyes.

"Oui," Francis agreed, looking out to the parking lot once more, then back to Arthur. "But that is not such a surprise. They were together during the last world conference too. They are all friends again."

Arthur gave Francis and arch look. "I hope it stays friendly. There was a lot of pain on all sides…"

"They'll find their way, cher," Francis assured him, tugging lightly on their joined hands. "Come, it's been a long day. Let's rest before dinner."

Arthur surrendered to Francis' insistent tugging although he knew full well that _sleep_ was the last thing on Francis' mind.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The traffic was light on the way back to Ottawa, and the trio of personified nations, Ivan and Matthew in Matthew's car, and Alfred in his own car, completed the trip in record time. It was still early autumn, so there was at least an hour before sunset by the time they pulled into Matthew's driveway.

"Do you need to go pick up Kuma?" Alfred asked as he pulled his bag out of his car.

Matthew shook his head. "Margaret had a family dinner tonight, so she dropped him off about an hour ago. She has a spare key."

Kuma must have heard that, because at that moment the front door shook on its hinges from what Matthew assumed was a vigorous pawing. Matthew shook his head and smiled fondly. "Margaret does a great job of keeping him exercised, but he's always so excited when I come home."

Kuma, in fact, made a valiant effort to knock the lot of them over as soon as they opened the door, an effort that was mostly thwarted by Ivan going first and bracing himself in anticipation. While each individual remained standing, Kuma's frantic running around made their respective journeys to their rooms an ordeal.

"Kuma, down!" Matthew insisted for the fourth time in the last thirty seconds. Kuma obeyed, but only fleetingly.

Ivan calmly reached over and took Matthew's bag from him. "Why don't you take him out for a walk? I can unpack and get started on dinner."

Matthew offered a tired smile. He really didn't feel like a hike right now, but Kuma obviously needed it. "Sure. Thank you, Ivan."

"Pozhaluysta," Ivan replied with an easy smile.

"I can walk him if you want," Alfred offered, setting his bag down against a wall, and then picking it up again when Matthew frowned at it and looked away. Matthew wasn't a neat freak, but Alfred knew his appalling lack of commitment to domestic chores had been one of the cardinal failures of their marriage. Alfred didn't want to give Matthew any reason to worry that he'd have to spend their short visit cleaning up after him.

Matthew hesitated for half a moment, old doubts surging and being summarily stamped out. Alfred had given him many false promises during their marriage, but since he'd apologized he had been scrupulous about keeping even the slightest promise. Matthew was fatigued enough to be thankful for the opportunity to rest, but he remembered his resolve earlier to speak with Alfred alone if he was able to. "Can we go together?"

Alfred also hesitated before nodding. "Of course. I'll set my bag down, and then I'm good to go."

Matthew watched him go with mixed feelings. He didn't want Alfred to think he still resented him, but if those thoughts _had_ flashed through Alfred's head, that was even more of a reason for them to talk. Talking had been the means of re-establishing their friendship, a feat Matthew wouldn't have believed possible a year ago. Ongoing communication would be necessary to prevent further misunderstandings.

Ivan touched Matthew's shoulder lightly to get his attention, then leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss to Matthew's forehead. "See you soon."

"See you soon," Matthew echoed, watching Ivan climb the stairs to the loft bedroom.

"Ready to go?"

Matthew turned and looked into Alfred's eager face, pleased to see he hadn't removed his jacket or gloves. "I'm ready."

The moment the door was open again, Kuma plunged outside, running headlong into the bright autumn foliage. Matthew chuckled softly to himself as Alfred followed him more sedately outside, closing the door behind them. "I don't think Kuma could've waited any longer, ready or not," Matthew observed, watching the miniature polar bear race back and forth over the ground at their feet.

"Tell me about it," Alfred agreed, tracking Kuma's movement with his eyes, laughing quietly when the miniature polar bear rolled backwards past him, just to jump up a moment later and race to the crest of the small hill by Matthew's house.

"Want to take the trail to the waterfall?" Matthew asked, pushing his hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie.

"Sure," Alfred agreed, following slightly behind Matthew as he veered to the left fork of the trail. Neither of them was particularly concerned about calling Kuma after them. Despite his frantic energy he was good at staying close to whoever was walking with him. True to form, although one couldn't say that Kuma was following any particular trail, he was never out of sight.

"Thank you for walking Kuma with me," Matthew began, glancing over at Alfred, who looked back at him a little sheepishly.

"You're welcome..."

They walked together without speaking for a long time, the crinkling of the leaves at their feet and an occasional excited yip from Kuma the only noises that disturbed the silent woods. On the one hand it was a comfortable silence because they had walked together many evenings in the past. On the other hand, there was an underlying tension that they each felt for their own reasons. When they did speak, they both began simultaneously.

"Listen, Alfred…"

"Matthew, I…"

They shared a wry look, and then turned away from each other, chuckling with nervous energy. Matthew was the first to recover. "Sorry, what were you going to say?"

Alfred sighed and rubbed the back of his neck reflexively before continuing. "I know I haven't been so trustworthy lately, and I just wanted to let you know… well… Don't tell me you're okay with something if you aren't. I made my own bed here, and I need to suffer the consequences."

"I trust you, Alfred," Matthew began, undeterred by the pointed look Alfred shot him. "I _do_!" he insisted. "I can't say I don't still resent you sometimes, as much as I'd like not to." Matthew swallowed and looked across at Alfred, meeting his eyes. "You've worked really hard to get my trust back. I'm still working on some of my own stuff, but I'll get there."

Alfred nodded. "Thank you, Mattie. That's more than I deserve."

"Will you _stop_ putting yourself down?!" Matthew glared across at Alfred's slightly shocked expression. "You were an ass, you made some mistakes, but that's not _all_ that you are, Alfred." Matthew glanced away and let out an irritated huff. "I actually came with you because I wanted to talk with you."

"About what?" Alfred asked, barely contained curiosity evident in every feature.

"Are you okay, Alfred? Really okay?" Matthew asked. "Because it feels like there's something holding you back. I'm not sure if it's this self-deprecating mission you seem to be on or what, but… something's seemed _off_ with you recently."

One of Alfred's hands lifted partway to his chest, hesitated, then lowered back down to his side. "I'm okay," he replied, trailing his gaze over the trees surrounding them. "You're right I have been hard on myself, but that's just because I never want to go back, Mattie…" He caught Matthew's gaze again and added, "I want to make sure I'm doing right by you, being a good friend without stepping over any boundaries."

"You've been fine, Al," Matthew assured him. He frowned in thought and added. "I hope that talk we had at the summer world conference isn't part of this. That was really just about me needing to say it out loud. You've been very respectful; I would have said something if you weren't."

Alfred nodded, and turned away so that Matthew couldn't see him frown. His actions might have been respectable…but deep down he knew that was where it ended. He _still_ couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Ivan saw right through him and seemed not to care... It was a trust Alfred _knew_ he didn't deserve.

"I'm going to chase Kuma around a bit, try to tire him out so that he'll let us sleep tonight," Alfred suggested, eager for a change of conversation.

"Have fun," Matthew replied lifting his hand in a brief wave as Alfred took off through the underbrush. Kuma heard Alfred coming and flailed dramatically, making sure he stayed _just_ out of Alfred's reach.

Matthew watched them with a poignant smile. He could almost believe that Alfred was as carefree in that moment as he looked, but he knew it wasn't true. They'd both undergone some painful but very necessary changes recently. They were both still feeling their way through things; they'd find their new equilibrium eventually.

All things considered, Matthew was as satisfied as he felt he could be. He crested the rise in the trail and started trotting down the other side. The air was cool and clear, he might yet get a second wind. Matthew stretched his arms out and leapt from one rock to another in a sea of dead leaves.

He was almost at the bottom of the hill when his foot landed awkwardly on a loose stone and he tumbled over the side of the trail and rolled into a thick cluster of trees. The stone came to rest against an old maple tree no worse for wear. The same thing couldn't be said about Matthew. He hit several trees on the way down before slamming to a stop against a sturdy oak tree. He groaned softly and curled in on himself, his head still spinning from the tumble down the hill.

Alfred was by his side almost instantly, even before Matthew registered what had happened to him. "Mattie, are you okay?! Does anything hurt?" Alfred's hand swept over Matthew's shoulders and arms, helping pull him into a sitting position.

"I think…" Matthew shifted and stretched his legs, then winced, drawing his left leg close to his body. "Ah! I think I hurt my ankle."

Alfred's nimble fingers moved under the hem of Matthew's jeans, prodding the skin around Matthew's left ankle gently. "It's swelling already," Alfred observed, frowning when Matthew winced at the touch of his fingers over the ankle bone. "You might have broken it."

"No!" Matthew insisted, pulling himself more upright, pressing back into the tree that had stopped his fall. "No, it's too soon to tell that."

Alfred glanced at Matthew and his frown deepened. "Maybe, but you're _definitely_ not walking back." Before Matthew could protest, Alfred leaned close and gathered him into his arms, one arm under Matthew's knees, and the other looped around his back. Matthew clung to Alfred reflexively, any protest he was about to form dying in a cry of pain as he was lifted from the ground.

"It's okay, Mattie," Alfred assured him, tightening his grip on Matthew's body. "I've got you."

Matthew, who had curled tightly against Alfred's chest, made an effort to uncurl himself and found Alfred looking down at him with a reassuring smile.

"I've got you," Alfred repeated, and he was so close that his breath ghosted over Matthew's face.

"Thank you," Matthew breathed, adjusting his grip on Alfred's shoulders, and trying to ease his face away from Alfred's as subtly as possible, willing himself not to blush in the process.

"Anytime," Arthur replied, his voice low and reassuring. "Ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Matthew replied. "Where's Kuma?"

"Right here at your feet," Alfred assured him. "He heard you fall and came running with me."

Matthew glanced down and caught a glimpse of concerned brown eyes. A fleeting smile crossed his features, and he reached down to ruffle his fingers through soft white fur.

"Okay," Alfred murmured, "Better hang on tight, Mattie. I'll get you home safe."

Matthew looped both arms back around Alfred's shoulders and braced himself for the trip back to his cabin. He was expecting a rough ride, but Alfred was surprisingly gentle. He was very mindful about how he moved and careful to not jostle Matthew. Other than the pulsing, throbbing pain in his ankle, it was almost relaxing. After the first few minutes Matthew went so far as to rest his head against Alfred's shoulder and shut his eyes, trusting in Alfred completely. Kuma padded along silently beside them and they made slow but steady progress back the way they had come.

At length Alfred murmured, "Almost there, Mattie," and Matthew opened his eyes to see the lights of his cabin in the distance.

"Good," he replied, his voice breathy form pain and fatigue. "A nice hot bath and an ace bandage and I can put this disastrous walk behind me."

"I don't think so, Mattie," Alfred protested. "You need to see a doctor."

Matthew made a face. "I'm _fine_ , Alfred," he insisted.

"ah hu, and you could walk back by yourself too," Alfred replied, not deterred in the slightest.

"It's just a sprain," Matthew asserted.

Alfred, however, was not so easily swayed. "We'll let the doctor decide that."

"Alfred? Matvey? What happened?"

Ivan stepped outside of the cabin and jogged up to meet them as Alfred made his way down the last hill into Matthew's front yard. "He fell and hurt his ankle," Alfred explained. "I think he should have a doctor look at it; it might be broken."

"I'm _fine_!"

Ivan ignored Matthew's protestations. Instead he reached out and his fingers ghosted over Matthew's ankles, quickly focusing in on his left one which was hot and swollen. "Agreed. I haven't really started cooking yet. I'll put away the food I pulled out and get the car keys."

"This is unnecessary," Matthew grumbled.

Alfred nodded. "I'll get Kuma fed and settled and help you get Mattie in the car."

"I'm talking to myself, aren't I?" Matthew observed with a bitter curl to his lips.

"We're just worried about you, Mattie," Alfred assured him, following Ivan inside and walking over to Matthew's futon sofa.

"I guess…"

Alfred eased Matthew down onto the plush fabric of his futon sofa, then knelt in front of him, gently rubbing Matthew's knees. "It'll be okay, Mattie."

"I know…"

Alfred ducked his head, trying to catch Matthew's gaze with his own. "What has you so upset?"

Matthew crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled softly, looking anywhere but at Alfred.

Alfred sighed and leaned forward until he could cup Matthew's cheek applying light pressure until Matthew turned to look at him.

"Mattie, you know I didn't hear that." Alfred's thumb brushed against Matthew's cheek, the tenderness in the gesture brought Matthew up short, taking the fire out of his disappointment. "Now, what has you so upset?" Alfred repeated, his voice as soft and gentle as his fingers on Matthew's skin.

"We were going to go hiking…" Matthew muttered, drawing his arms tighter around himself and feeling like a child. It was only meant to be a brief visit, and they talked frequently anyways, but he really had been looking forward to spending some down time with Alfred and Ivan in person.

"Yeah, it sucks a little that hiking's not gonna be an option for tomorrow," Alfred agreed, his hands reaching for Matthew's and rubbing them reassuringly, "but there's other things we can do. We can play board games, or have a movie marathon. You might finally get me to watch the entire SAW series."

Matthew chuckled softly and shook his head. "You and I both know that's never going to happen."

"Maybe not," Alfred agreed with an infectious smile, "but we'll think of something. Once we know what kind of shape your ankle is in, we can set a date on the calendar to go hiking together; you, me, Ivan, and Kuma. How does that sound?"

"That sounds good," Matthew agreed, squeezing Alfred's hands tightly for a moment. "I'm sorry; I know it's not a big deal."

"Spending time with people you care about _is_ a big deal," Alfred protested. "I know how much that matters to you, and it's not like our schedules give us a lot of free time to spend together. Your health has to come first though. Let's see what we can do to get you feeling better, okay?"

Matthew nodded, smiling back at Alfred. "Okay, Al."

"Okay," Alfred echoed. He stood, planting a brief chaste kiss on Matthew's forehead as he did so, and gently released Matthew's hands. "I'll get Kuma situated, and then we'll get you in the car. Don't wander off."

"Not much risk of that," Matthew admitted with a rueful smile.

He watched in grateful silence as Ivan and Alfred worked side by side to clean up the food Ivan had started to prep, feed Kuma, and make other preparations for a trip to the hospital. One would have never guessed by watching them that they'd been bitter rivals; they looked like a well-oiled machine. Matthew still felt they were both being over-protective, but he couldn't deny the growing ache in his leg.

In less time than he'd thought possible Alfred was tossing Ivan the car keys and leaning down over the futon sofa to pull Matthew into his arms once more. The movement hurt, but Matthew could tell Alfred was doing his best to be gentle. His grip on Matthew was strong and it never wavered, making Matthew feel secure even as he was carried out of the house, across the driveway, and settled in the car on Alfred's lap.

Alfred buckled himself in, then reached in the back and pulled out a blanket which he wrapped around Matthew, tucking the edges in securely without jostling his hurt ankle. Ivan eyed them through the rearview mirror for a moment, but said nothing about Matthew's lack of seatbelt as he pulled slowly out of the driveway.

"See this isn't so bad," Alfred encouraged. "Nothing like last time."

Now Ivan did speak, glancing at the pair in the rearview mirror. "Have you broken your ankle before Matthew?"

Slowly, reluctantly, Matthew nodded. "When I was still a child. I fell down the stairs at Arthur's house. _That_ was a bad break. I was in a cast up to my thigh for _months_..." He shook his head at the unpleasant memories. "This doesn't hurt anywhere near that bad."

"It's still important to have it checked," Alfred protested.

"Like I have any choice in the matter?" Matthew asked wryly. "The two of you are conspiring against me."

"Only because we care," Ivan agreed with an unrepentant grin.

"Hey, if it is broken, and I'm not saying it is," Alfred began, "I'll draw some super awesome mural on the cast, just like last time. In fact, this time will be better, because Ivan can help me."

Up in the driver's seat, Ivan nodded. "I would be honored."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, yeah?" Matthew grumbled, shifting closer in Alfred's embrace as a sudden chill ran through him. The chill wasn't so surprising, his blood was rerouting to send support to his injured ankle, that was simple biology. What was disconcerting was how strong and solid Alfred's arms felt around him. Matthew didn't doubt Alfred's strength, he'd picked him up easily enough, but it felt so _natural_ being in his arms…

" _You've been growing closer to him lately. I've seen you fighting it, but he is making you smile again."_

"Cold?" Alfred asked, his hands already reaching to pull the blanket more tightly around Matthew. Alfred was so close that Matthew could feel his breath on his scalp.

Matthew nodded mutely, pressing his head into Alfred's shoulder, trying to ground himself in reality. He was hurt, Alfred was helping him. Of course he would feel grateful.

Alfred tightened his arms around Matthew in a comforting hug. "We'll be there soon, Mattie."

Matthew nodded again, catching Ivan's gaze in the rearview mirror and holding it as long as he could.

When they pulled into the hospital parking lot Ivan managed to find a space close to the entrance that had an empty space adjacent to it. "You both wait here," he suggested, putting he car in park. "I will get a wheelchair."

"I can carry Mattie inside," Alfred assured him, undoing his seat belt and pulling Matthew closer to his chest.

"Are you sure?" Ivan asked, hesitating with his fingers on the door handle.

"Positive," Alfred confirmed, opening his own door and starting to maneuver his way outside. "Come close the door for me?"

Ivan nodded and made quick work of locking up the car. Alfred didn't dawdle, but Ivan still beat him inside, turning back around to meet him on the threshold with a wheelchair in hand. They both made sure Matthew was settled comfortably before Ivan turned and started wheeling him in, Alfred close by his side. The receptionist looked up as they entered and offered a soft smile of welcome. "Good evening, gentlemen. How can I help you?"

"He broke his ankle!" Alfred insisted.

"Al, _I'm_ the patient, remember?" Matthew protested, glaring at Alfred over his shoulder for a moment before turning back to the receptionist with a somewhat sheepish expression. "I fell and they won't be satisfied until I have an x-ray."

The receptionist glanced briefly at Ivan who offered no additional comments, her smile shifting to amused when she looked back to Matthew. "That sounds like a good idea. Better safe than sorry. We don't have too bad a crowd tonight. It looks like there might be a 30-40 minute wait."

"That'll be fine," Matthew assured her, reaching for the paperwork on a clipboard that she was passing him. Registration was a short processes and they were soon settled in a quiet corner of the waiting room.

Matthew sighed and shifted in his wheelchair. He was generally a patient person, but waiting rooms always made the time seem five times longer than it really was. He saw Ivan pick up one of the available magazines and start browsing through it. He expected Alfred to be on his phone instantly, and was surprised to find him leaning his elbow on the armrest of his chair, his head in his hand. He turned to look at Matthew and offered a conciliatory smile. "Thirty minutes isn't a long wait. We'll be back home soon."

Matthew nodded haltingly, then asked, "Where's your phone?"

Alfred blinked and glanced down at his pockets before looking up again with a rueful smile. "I left it at your place. It wasn't important."

_It wasn't important._

The words sounded so strange to Matthew. How long had he waited, pleaded, and hoped to be important to Alfred?

_I've been asking for your attention for so long now, Alfred. I don't need all of it, but I can't escape the fact that you hardly give me_ _**any** _ _attention. Do you_ _**care** _ _if I'm there or not?_

There was no swell of resentment, however. Honestly Matthew wasn't quite sure how to feel. In the end he settled on flattered. Maybe it was the case that their relationship worked better as a friendship, which wasn't unheard of. Glancing over at Ivan, then back at Alfred, Matthew decided, as painful as his separation from Alfred had been, he wouldn't change it. Now he had Ivan _and_ Alfred in his life.

Taking pity on his bored companion, Matthew fished his own phone out of his pocket and held it out to Alfred. "Here, use mine. Just try not to download too many apps, okay?"

Alfred blinked at him, a surprised smile spreading over his features. "Are you sure?"

Matthew nodded. "Yes, very sure. If I want I can always watch what you're doing over your shoulder, or pick up a magazine."

"Thank you," Alfred murmured, gently taking the phone from Matthew and browsing the applications Matthew already had downloaded. Matthew had never been as big about games as Alfred was, but he had a few. After a few minutes of searching, Alfred settled for a simple puzzle game.

Matthew, true to his word, watched Alfred's progress over his shoulder. They were both decently good at puzzle games, but Matthew was by far the most proficient of the two. He watched patiently as Alfred breezed through the early, easy levels, and saw his progress slow as the levels increased in difficulty. Matthew's gaze flickered up to Alfred's forehead and he watched the tell-tale wrinkles of a frustrated frown make their presence known. He glanced back at the screen and drew his bottom lip between his teeth to stifle the temptation to offer suggestions; Matthew knew from experience that Alfred preferred to figure things out for himself.

"Try moving to the upper right hand corner, and checking behind the portrait. There's probably a clue there."

Matthew and Alfred turned as one and looked at Ivan with mixed amounts of surprise and, on Alfred's part, incredulity. Ivan, apparently, had not been able to resist the temptation to offer advice as easily as Matthew had. Or perhaps he didn't want to. In the recent years of Ivan's rivalry with Alfred, even Matthew could tell that they seemed to enjoy antagonizing each other.

"Dude, this is _my_ game," Alfred replied, somewhat miffed. "Get your own." He turned back to the screen and seemed to be pointedly ignoring Ivan's suggestion.

"Da, that sounds like fun. I will download this game on my phone," Ivan replied, setting down the magazine he'd been reading and plucking his own phone out of his pocket, his fingers moving rapidly over the screen.

"Whatever you want, big guy," Alfred murmured, "Just don't cheat off of me."

"I have no intention to," Ivan assured him. "I'm going to surpass you."

"What?!" Alfred sputtered, looking briefly sheepish when Matthew shushed him. Keeping his voice a bit lower he added, "How do you plan to do that? I'm like, fifteen levels ahead of you!"

Ivan slid his gaze to Alfred's, slowly turning his head, a playful and malicious grin spreading over his lips. "I'm a fast learner."

"Oh, it is on!" Alfred insisted vehemently, but quietly, turning back to his phone with renewed vigor and determination.

Matthew chuckled softly, watching his friend and his lover with quiet amusement. While any true hostility between them seemed long dead, he supposed the rivalry would never truly end.

"Matthew Williams?"

Matthew turned his head and raised his hand in response to hearing his name. "That's me."

Ivan and Alfred began to put their phones away, but Matthew held out his other hand, halting them. "I can push myself guys. I won't be long. Have your fun."

"Are you sure?" Alfred asked.

"It is no trouble," Ivan assured Matthew at the same time.

The nurse who had called Matthew's name approached their group, moving to stand behind Matthew's wheel chair. "He's just going for some x-rays," she assured them. "I'll bring him back in one piece."

"Oh, thank you," Matthew replied, glancing back at the nurse as she started to move him through the lobby.

"You're welcome," She replied cheerfully.

Matthew turned to wave once more at Ivan and Alfred, who seemed to be returning to their little competition with a small amount of reluctance.

The nurse was quick and efficient in her work, which Matthew was grateful for. He really disliked the cold sterility of hospitals, and was wholeheartedly in favor of anything that might reduce the amount of time he had to spend here. Less than two minutes later she had him situated in the x-ray suite. "The technician will be out in a moment to grab your x-rays," she said cheerfully. "Do you need any help getting up on the table?"

"No, thank you," Matthew replied, standing and shuffling over to sit on the x ray table, bending to carefully remove his shoes and socks. "I've still got three good limbs."

The nurse nodded. "I'll see you in just a few minutes."

The x-ray technician appeared less than a minute later and gently positioned Matthew's leg for a series of x-rays. He was very gentle, but Matthew couldn't shake the general feeling of _wrongness_ every time he shifted his ankle. For one of his x-rays he was obligated to hold his leg parallel a few inches above the table because he couldn't tolerate resting the boney part of his ankle against the table top. Even so, he was quietly adamant that his ankle _couldn't_ be broken. Yes, the swelling was bad, and the bruising was dark, but it wasn't quite the same as when he'd broken his ankle before. This had to be just a bad sprain, it _had_ to be.

The x-rays were quickly dispatched, and Matthew was released back to his wheelchair. The x-ray technician, like the nurse before him, offered to help Matthew transfer, but Matthew was adamant that he would be able to transfer himself back to the wheelchair. He was able to seat himself without any trouble, and opted to keep his injured ankle free from both sock and shoe for the moment.

As soon as Matthew was situated, the nurse from earlier reappeared. "A bed opened in the examination bay," she explained, stepping behind the wheelchair and pushing Matthew speedily through the hallways once more. "I just escorted your companions there."

"Thank you," Matthew replied with a friendly smile.

At the end of the hall the nurse veered right, away from the waiting room, wheeling Matthew into one of the curtained off areas of the examination bay. Alfred and Ivan were there waiting for him, each of them sitting on the hospital bed, a small space left open between them. Ivan was the first to look up, smiling and thanking the nurse as she brought Matthew's wheelchair to a stop in front of them.

"The doctor will be with you shortly," the nurse murmured, leaving them to themselves with a friendly wave.

"Are you both the patient's now?" Matthew asked with a wry smile and Ivan stood, then bent to kiss him.

"Nyet," Ivan replied, leaning back and locking the wheelchair in place. "We just thought you would be more comfortable with some company." He leaned forward then and wrapped his arms securely around Matthew, lifting him from the wheelchair and setting him down snugly beside Alfred, who immediately set his phone down and reached for Matthew's hand.

"Yeah, we know how you hate hospitals," Alfred added, giving Matthew's hand a squeeze.

Ivan set the wheelchair aside, then returned to the hospital bed, sitting down on Matthew's other side, comfortably boxing him in

"Thanks, guys," Matthew replied, smiling as Ivan reached out and wrapped an arm around Matthew's shoulders. Oddly enough, he _was_ more comfortable being bracketed between his lover and his friend. It probably should have made Matthew feel awkward, but it just made feel safe, warm, and protected. He kept his hand linked with Alfred's and leaned his head gently on Ivan's shoulder. "So, who won the puzzle game competition?"

Alfred grinned lazily. "I was going to win, but we didn't have enough time. It's not important anyway; I can beat Ivan anytime."

"You sound very confident," Ivan observed, with an unconcerned smile.

"I am," Alfred assured him. "I can take you anytime, anywhere."

Before Ivan could reply with some witty repartee of his own, the curtain was pulled aside and a young man with bright blue eyes and short black hair stepped inside to join them. He worse a long white coat and his nametag declared him to be, "Dr. Rolphson."

Dr. Rolphson paused and eyed their group for a moment before glancing down, then looking back up at Matthew. "I'm assuming you're the one with the broken ankle?"

Matthew's face fell. "It's not really broken is it?"

Dr. Rolphson nodded sympathetically. "I'm afraid so, but only just. He stepped forward and held out his hand to shake Matthew's. "Dr. Marcus Rolphson, nice to meet you."

Matthew nodded and shook the doctor's hand. "Matthew Williams. Nice to meet you, too."

"Well, Mr. Williams," Dr. Rolphson began, stepping back and sliding x-ray film into place on a nearby light box, "these are your x-rays from a few minutes ago, and if you look here, you can see a hairline fracture, just above the ankle."

Matthew leaned forward, squinted, and nodded. "Yeah," he replied, dejected. "I see it."

"You must have taken quite the tumble," Dr. Rolphson noted, pulling up a stool for himself and reaching out to Matthew's foot. "Is it okay if I take a look?"

"Help yourself." Matthew dutifully held his foot out to Dr. Rolphson, who took it gently in his hands. He turned Matthew's foot this way and that, gently prodding the swollen ankle with his fingers. Matthew winced occasionally, but otherwise did his best to stay silent.

"The good news," Dr. Rolphson said, looking back up at Matthew, "Is that we don't need to set such a small break. We don't even need to cast it."

"You don't?" Matthew asked hopefully, perking up a bit.

"We don't," Dr. Rolphson repeated. "We will need to support it, however." He leaned forward and removed a large, black, post-op boot from one of the nearby drawers. "This boot will help hold your ankle in a good position, and when you're feeling a bit stronger, you can walk in this boot." Dr. Rolphson gently pulled back the black fabric of the boot and slipped Matthew's leg inside. There were large swaths of fabric and cushioning secured around Matthew's leg with velcro. These were then further secured with long velcro straps that wrapped around the boot at various intervals. Once all the straps were securely in place Dr. Rolphson asked, "How does that feel?"

Matthew flexed his toes. There wasn't a lot of wiggle room. "It feels like a cast."

Dr. Rolphson nodded. "Good, that's how it's supposed to feel. The only difference is you can take this off to bathe and to sleep if it bothers you."

"And I can walk with it?" Matthew asked, looking down at the flat rubber sole of the boot.

"In time, yes," Dr. Rolphson agreed. "You'll want to wait at least two weeks to give yourself time to get over the initial pain. That's why we're sending you home with crutches. How tall are you?"

"169 centimeters."

Dr. Rolphson looked around him with a bemused smile because Matthew, Ivan, and Alfred had spoken simultaneously. "Okay. I think we have just the thing over here." He stood, opened a nearby supply closet and pulled out adjustable crutches, moving them to the appropriate height before handing them to Matthew. "Now, I'm going to give you something for the pain you're going to be in; you can pick that up at our in-house pharmacy." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a card. "I'm going to refer you to my college, Dr. Page. The receptionist can help you make a follow up appointment with her two weeks from now. She'll probably get more x-rays at that time, and give you a better idea of how long you're going to be in that boot."

Matthew, resigned to his fate, did his best to be gracious as he accepted the card and slipped it into his pocket. "Thank you, doctor."

"You're welcome. I hope you gentlemen have a good evening." Dr. Rolphson shook each of their hands in turn before turning to go with a brief wave.

Matthew sighed and moved to get off the table when Alfred and Ivan's arms tightened around him, holding him in place. "Guys, he said I could walk!" Matthew protested.

"Not for two weeks," Alfred retorted. "You heard him, right, Ivan?"

"Da. You should stay off your bad foot until Dr. Page has a chance to examine you. Come, I will help you to your wheelchair." Matthew grumbled softly, but knew better than to protest. He allowed himself to be lifted and placed back in the wheelchair.

They picked up Matthew's prescription, made a follow up appointment with Dr. Page, and left just as they had arrived. Ivan pushed him until they reached the foyer, then Alfred lifted him in his arms, and carried Matthew back to the car. Both Ivan and Alfred were very encouraging, repeatedly assuring Matthew he wouldn't be confined _that_ long, and that once he was able to walk on his own he'd hardly even notice the boot. It was more their cooperative effort than the specific words they chose which Matthew found both encouraging and endearing.

Ivan and Alfred continued to work like a well-organized team after they arrived home. Alfred stepped out of the car and neatly handed Matthew over to Ivan, who carried Matthew upstairs to help him bathe and get changed into his pajamas. Meanwhile Alfred set to work preparing a late dinner for the three of them. Only, instead of the steak and potatoes Ivan had planned, Alfred prepared steak and a large platter of poutine, one of Matthew's favorite comfort foods.

In less time than he thought possible, Matthew found himself nestled between Ivan and Alfred on the futon sofa, with plates of steak and a platter of poutine in easy reach. Despite all his private resolution to spend the evening sulking, they'd both put him back in a good mood.

It was a little surreal, being sandwiched between his friend and his lover for the movie marathon that accompanied dinner. It was surprisingly comfortable. The tension or awkwardness that had been there before, and prompted Matthew's discussion with Alfred in the first place, was gone. Ivan and Alfred seemed perfectly united by their concern for Matthew. It was both sweet and unnerving because of how quickly it had happened.

Once dinner was cleared away and Matthew had taken his medication, his foot was propped up on the coffee table with a small ice pack, and Ivan and Alfred assumed the same positions they had taken at the hospital. Ivan's arm wound snugly around Matthew's shoulder, and Alfred's hand was linked with Matthew's, their fingers intertwined. It was a little disconcerting how _right_ it felt.

Matthew did tend to be particularly affectionate with his friends, his casual flirting with Gilbert was evidence enough of that. Still…Matthew wasn't sure it was normal to be this comfortable with an ex _and_ a current lover…

" _It is possible that your feelings for him will return."_

No. Impossible. Not going to happen. It had been a crazy suggestion brought about by Ivan's insecurities. Ivan hadn't even mentioned it since he'd first brought it up. Ivan and Alfred seemed increasingly comfortable around each other, so it was likely that Ivan had put the whole idea out of his head.

Matthew glanced at Alfred who smiled, then at Ivan who smiled and leaned forward to press a kiss into his temple. With a soft sigh, Matthew decided to stop thinking about it so hard. Slowly, Matthew leaned his head on Ivan's shoulder, keeping his hand linked with Alfred's, and focused his attention on the movie. It wasn't long before he felt himself drifting off...


	27. A Good Fit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can only lie to yourself for so long.

Chapter 27: A Good Fit

 

 

"Alfred, this is ridiculous. Put. Me. Down."

"But, Mattie, it's icy outside!" Alfred insisted, actually _tightening_ his grip on Matthew's legs and waist.

"Yes, that generally happens in November," Matthew replied, attempting to look serious.

"I don't see you loosening your grip on me," Alfred teased dipping his head even closer to Matthew's as he mounted the steps of Matthew's cabin.

Matthew flushed and turned his head away. "Yeah, well, I don't want to fall again, do I? If you would just put me down, I'd be able to get into the cabin under my own power."

"No can do, Mattie," Alfred replied resolutely. "I promised Ivan I would keep you safe."

Matthew sighed softly and leaned his head against Alfred's shoulder for the duration, resigned to his fate. "Yeah, you have quite the brotherhood of oppression going."

Alfred smiled at him unrepentantly. "Protection, Mattie. It's all about protection."

When Matthew had first broken his ankle he had anticipated a great many frustrations and disappointments, none of which had been realized. The morning after their impromptu trip to the hospital, Alfred's suggestion of board games and movie marathons had been readily implemented, and much fun had been had by all. The following day Alfred had left as planned, and Ivan had continued his visit with Matthew alone.

Two weeks after that, when Matthew was saying his goodbyes to Ivan, Alfred had shown up to drive Ivan to the airport. In Matthew's eyes Alfred's return had been wholly unexpected, but not more unexpected than Ivan's explanation of his agreement with Alfred not to leave Matthew alone until he was fully healed. A broken ankle was hardly the worst illness or injury a human or personified nation could suffer, and yet Alfred and Ivan had taken it upon themselves to rearrange their schedules so that one or both of them would be in residence with Matthew for support and assistance, fulfilling their own obligations as personified nations through telecommuting whenever possible.

Once this scheme had been made clear to Matthew he had protested, rather vehemently, against it. He didn't want to be a burden, and he hardly required that level of support. In a few days time he would in all likelihood be cleared to walk in his supportive boot, and the personal inconvenience to him would be almost nothing. He'd hardly even broken his ankle in the first place. It would be a comparative waste of time and resources.

Despite Matthew's rational, well presented arguments, Ivan and Alfred would not give way in the slightest. They insisted that arrangements had already been made and to undo them now would only be a greater inconvenience to all parties involved. If nothing else they would both have greater peace of mind and, in all likelihood, better performance in their duties as personified nations, knowing that Matthew would be at no increased risk of further injury.

At length, and with more than a little reluctance, Matthew submitted to Ivan and Alfred's original plan of action. He still firmly believed that the idea of his safety being at risk was ludicrous, but it was hard to put forth continual protest against the notion of being able to spend more time with both of them. Matthew knew, now more than ever, that he didn't _need_ the company. He could live a highly fulfilling life even if he spent most of his time alone, but that didn't mean he _wanted_ to.

Now, more than a month into their little arrangement, Matthew found his only regret was Ivan and Alfred's overprotective natures. They had absolutely forbade him attempting to walk in his boot without crutches until he had express permission from Dr. Page, and even then they seemed to use any and every excuse to prevent Matthew from over exerting himself. The barest hint of Matthew attempting to rise from his seat had Ivan or Alfred on their feet asking what they could get for him. Every time Matthew _was_ off his feet, they were constantly refreshing hot and cold packs for his ankle to numb pain and stimulate blood flow to promote healing. Granted, Alfred had allowed Matthew to walk, _briefly_ , around the grocery store with him just now, so long as Matthew hadn't tried lift anything or push the trolley. Even so, the moment it had started to snow Alfred had resolved to _carry_ Matthew from the car and into the cabin before taking any of the groceries inside.

With the same gentleness that he'd used during the night of Matthew's injury, Alfred set Matthew down on the sofa, and pressed two firm pillows into his hand. "There we go. Take your boot off and get your leg propped up; I'll be back in a few minutes with an ice pack."

"Yes, Alfred," Matthew sighed, smiling after Alfred with patient affection. Alfred and Ivan were so resolute and consistent in their attention that Matthew had given up protesting against it, except in the most extreme and unnecessary of circumstances.

A moment later Alfred pressed a cold pack into his hand and, with a quick flash of a charming smile, he was retreating out the door to retrieve the groceries in Matthew's car. Matthew dutifully elevated his leg on the pillows, and draped the cold pack over his afflicted ankle. Dr. Page was optimistic about the level of healing she could see in his x-rays, despite the persistent swelling. Apparently the swelling would be the last symptom to resolve and may never completely dissipate.

A high sweet whistling announced Alfred's return to the cabin. He nudged open the door, arms laden with groceries. As Alfred approached the kitchen, Kuma stirred from his late afternoon nap to trail behind Alfred in the hopes of a handout. Alfred smiled good naturedly at Kuma and, after setting the bags down on the counter, bent to ruffle the fur at the top of Kuma's head. "Dinner's not till 6pm."

Kuma grumbled softly and plodded slowly back to his nest of blankets in the corner, flopping down on them with a dramatic huff.

Alfred set to work putting the groceries in their rightful place, alternately whistling and mumbling to himself as he worked. He hesitated when he pulled out the bags of flour they'd picked up. Alfred glanced around the kitchen, looked back at the bags of flour in his hands, then sighed and turned towards Matthew. "Where did Ivan move the flour to the last time he was here?"

"The cabinets above the fridge," Matthew replied with a wry smile.

The awkwardness or hesitation Matthew detected in Alfred before his accident had never returned. Ivan and Alfred seemed perfectly united in their efforts to support him. That wasn't the end of it though; Ivan and Alfred's friendship seemed to be reviving in a most unexpected way. They kept in frequent contact with each other about Matthew and other things. They both spent all the time with Matthew that they could spare, and more than once, Matthew had come in to find Alfred talking with Ivan about his day or non-confidential matters of state. Sometimes, when all three of them could be together, Matthew watched with quiet amusement, if not a small amount of confusion, as Ivan and Alfred talked primarily to each other. Matthew had been witness to several impromptu chess matches between them that had an intensity which could not be compared to the matches he regularly had with Ivan.

Maybe it should have felt awkward to get along so well with both his current boyfriend and his former husband…but it didn't. If anything it felt _right_ to spend so much time with them, and to see them enjoying time with each other. Matthew could honestly say he'd never been happier.

"We should have an hour or so before I need to start dinner," Alfred said, straightening from returning the now empty grocery bags to the cabinet next to the fridge. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

Matthew smiled and nodded. "Sure. What do you want to watch?"

Alfred strode over from the kitchen area and settled beside Matthew on the couch. "How about a comedy? There's a new parody movie out that looks good."

"Let's check it out," Matthew agreed, sifting to try to give Alfred more room without dislodging the ice pack draped over his ankle.

Alfred quickly navigated the remotes to bring up the movie he had in mind. Once he had selected it, he glanced thoughtfully at Matthew and said, "If it's more comfortable, you could lean back against me." That was another common occurrence since Matthew had broken his ankle; he would often cuddle with Ivan or Alfred, sometimes _both_ , while icing his ankle on his futon sofa. Matthew had never been shy being physically affectionate with his friends, but he still wondered if he should have different boundaries with Alfred, all things considered… Then again, it didn't seem to bother Alfred _or_ Ivan. In all honestly, Matthew wasn't really bothered either; it was another of the new realities of his life that felt too right to really protest against.

Matthew let out a long satisfied sigh as gentle hands reached out and pulled him back to rest against Alfred's chest. Matthew was a bit shorter than Alfred, so his head fit neatly against Alfred's shoulder. A moment later one of Alfred's arms looped around Matthew's stomach, holding him in place. "Comfortable?" Alfred asked.

Goosebumps rose along the column of Matthew's neck as Alfred's breath ghosted over it, and he nodded. He was surprisingly comfortable. He would be surprised if he didn't drift off for a brief nap before dinner. Alfred was a solid, warm, reassuring presence at his back, and the fingers of Alfred's hand were dancing lightly over Matthew's forearm. It was both a caress and a form of fidgeting; Alfred was rarely completely still. For just a moment Matthew was tempted to roll up his sleeve and let Alfred's fingers dance across the bare skin of his forearm... but no. That _would_ have been crossing a boundary. They were _just_ friends now, and that was okay…

 

~*~*~*~

 

As the final credits of the movie began to roll, Alfred guiltily acknowledged to himself that he hadn't seen the last twenty minutes. He was too preoccupied watching Matthew sleep. He shouldn't be doing this, he _knew_ he shouldn't be doing this… Ivan had shown tremendous trust in him by allowing him to help out while Mattie was still injured. Alfred didn't want to mess this up…

Ivan had been a surprisingly good friend to him the last few months. He'd offered no protest when Alfred had been able to spend time with Mattie and him; he'd even welcomed Alfred and renewed their friendship. Alfred had been floored the first time Ivan had texted just to talk to _him_.

_Good morning, Alfred. How is your day going?_

… _.Fine. Why? Is something wrong?_

_Nyet, I just wanted to see how you were doing._

_I'm doing good, man. I'm trying to hit a meeting every day, and I'm still meeting with my sponsor once a week._

_That is good to hear. It takes courage to reach out… When I stopped drinking I tried to do it on my own. I'm not sure I would have succeeded if I hadn't gotten help from an old friend._

_You asked him for help?_

_He refused to leave me alone, actually._

_Heh, that sounds like you. I'm glad he stuck it out. I didn't really give you credit for it at first, but you've changed, you know. In a good way. You're less angry._

_Thank you. You've been working hard to change as well; it shows._

_Thanks. :) I think I needed someone to be hard on me that time I went to Mattie's house to clean._

_I was only trying to point out the difference between what you intended to do, and what you were actually doing._

_Well, I still needed it, thank you._

_You're welcome. I hope you're making time to relax as well. Meetings are important, but they do not count as down time._

_Yeah, a bit. I've got some horror movies I've been meaning to watch…but not alone._

Alfred had expected some good natured ribbing from Ivan. What he got instead almost made him fall off his chair.

_If you'd like, I could come watch them with you._

… _Dude are you serious? That's a long way to come for some bad horror movies._

_I do not mind._

_Well, sure, if you can fit it in. It'll give us both a chance to hang out with Mattie afterwards._

_It will, but I would come even if you did not live so close to him._

_**That**_ gave Alfred some pause. Ivan really was trying to connect with _him_ for his own sake, not just because of Matthew. He'd spent so long staring at his screen that Ivan had texted him again.

_When would you like to meet?_

Alfred typed out a quick response. _Thank you, dude. Seriously, I wasn't expecting that. …Does Saturday three weeks from now work for you?_

_Da. I will see you then_

_See you then! Oh, and text me your flight details; I'll pick you up from the airport!_

And that was all _before_ Matthew had broken his ankle. Alfred would never dared ask for such friendship, all things considered. He wasn't sure he could have done the same thing had their situations been reversed. In this, Ivan was definitely the better man.

A soft snoring broke Alfred's reverie. He looked down at Matthew, who shifted slightly on his chest, let out a soft sigh, and continued to sleep peacefully. Alfred smiled and pulled Matthew just a bit closer. He'd been honest with Ivan about his feelings for Matthew. Even now he could feel the weight of his and Matthew's wedding rings in his pocket; it hadn't felt right keeping them around his neck considering how much trust Ivan had placed in him. Alfred was determined that he _would not_ violate that trust, despite what his heart wanted. He would not be so selfish.

A key slid into the lock, and Alfred turned his head to watch the front door open. Being careful not to make too much noise, Ivan slowly pushed open the door. Kuma glanced up briefly, before grumbling softly and rolling over to continue his nap. By now he knew better than to beg for handouts from Ivan.

"Hey," Alfred murmured as Ivan closed the door behind him. "I thought you wouldn't be back until Monday."

"I was able to catch an early flight," Ivan replied softly. He toed off his shoes and set his bags down by the stairs up to the loft bedroom. Once that was done he stepped over to the futon sofa, and crouched down so that he and Alfred were face to face. "How have things been here?"

"We've been good," Alfred replied, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb Matthew. "We got back from grocery shopping a bit ago. Don't worry, I didn't let Mattie overdo it. Then we settled down for a movie. I was just about to get started on dinner."

Ivan smiled and reached out to caress the side of Matthew's cheek with his fingers. Matthew murmured slightly, shifting to lean into the touch, but he did not wake. Ivan glanced up at Alfred. Because of the logistics of the futon sofa and Matthew, he and Alfred were very, very close to each other. "Getting up to make dinner would only wake him. Let me do it."

Alfred frowned. "Are you sure? You just got off a plane."

Ivan nodded. "Da, I am sure. I have energy to burn. Just let me set my things down upstairs. What would you like for dinner?"

"Burgers would be nice if you're offering," Alfred replied with a lazy grin."

"I can make burgers," Ivan agreed. He shifted, Alfred thought he would stand, and then he leaned in, and pressed his lips to Alfred's in a short, chaste kiss. As he pulled back he murmured, "It is good to see you Alfred."

"Good to see you too," Alfred squeaked out, feeling a blush growing hot on his cheeks and moving down to his neck and chest. "Um, Ivan, are you okay?"

Ivan, who had just stooped to pick up his bags, turned to look at Alfred over his shoulder. "Da. I am fine. I will be back shortly." Without any further comment or explanation Ivan mounted the stairs up into Matthew's bedroom.

Alfred watched him go with mixed emotions. What…what had _that_ been about? …It might have been a cultural thing… Alfred had _just_ been thinking that Ivan and he were becoming better friends, and in some nations kissing was a greeting as much as it was anything else…

A few minutes later Ivan descended the steps looking energized and not the slightest bit preoccupied with what he had done. It had to be a cultural thing, Alfred decided. He toyed with the idea of mentioning that kissing on the lips wasn't really something he typically did outside of romantic relationships, but then decided against it. He doubted Ivan would really make a habit of it. Ivan had just come in from his own nation and Alfred should probably be grateful that he'd remembered to stick to English. Alfred's own Russian was pathetically rusty.

If Ivan kissed him again, he might talk about it with Matthew. Alfred was adamant that he wanted to keep his relationships with them both strong and within the appropriate boundaries. Until such a time, however, there was little to do but listen to Ivan putter around in the kitchen, and feel Matthew sleeping warm and limp on top of him. Alfred pressed a discreet kiss into the crown of Matthew's head, careful not to disturb him. He would watch over Matthew and let him rest until dinner was ready.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Slowly, Matthew began to regain his strength, and by the first week of December he was cleared to walk with a small ankle brace that could fit neatly under his shoe. Of course this meant a brief return of his crutches as his leg muscles had atrophied slightly. Ivan and Alfred were dutifully watchful and protective, but this time Matthew didn't fight them; he could feel the weakness in his muscles, and knew it would take time to strengthen them.

At the moment, Matthew was carefully making his way down hall and into his study for a video conference with Ludwig. He paused, leaned on his crutches, and glanced over his shoulder. He chuckled quietly when he saw Ivan and Alfred's barely concealed glances. "Guys, I'm hardly going to break my neck going down the hall. My leg's getting stronger every day. The doctor said I'd be walking normally in two weeks."

"All the more reason to be careful," Ivan reasoned, glancing up from the book he'd been pretending to read.

"I mean, there are easier ways to get our company," Alfred began, "You don't need to go to such extreme lengths to get our attention."

Matthew chuckled again and shook his head. "I'll be back soon; try to behave while I'm gone." Matthew continued his short trek down the hall and, once he reached the study, closed the door behind him. Ivan returned to his book, Alfred returned to the video game he'd been working on, and Kuma napped resolutely beside the fireplace. For a short time, the living room was almost silent.

"Argh!" Alfred grumbled, pushing the buttons of his controller forcefully. "Fucking zombies!"

Ivan glanced up at the television screen, then over to Alfred. "Is the point to charge directly into them?"

Alfred glowered at Ivan for a moment. The growling increased and Alfred turned back towards the screen with a surprised and angry jolt. "You know damn well it isn't!" he hissed.

Beside him Ivan smiled, amused. While he still struggled with guilt and worked diligently on his recovery, Alfred's energetic, competitive personality shone through. It had lessened in intensity perhaps, but it was still there, which made him oh so easy to antagonize.

"Are you sure?" Ivan asked leaning closer to Alfred. He watched Alfred's fingers fly over the buttons of his controller, then glanced languidly back at the television screen. "Because you seem to be doing just that."

Alfred's glared more intently at his game, shifting sideways, away from Ivan. Now wasn't the time for distractions; now was the time for action! If he could just climb up the gazebo he could use the branches of the oak tree as a bridge to the roof...

The branches snapped under the weight of Alfred's virtual avatar sending him screaming into a pack of howling, ravenous undead. Alfred sighed loudly and slumped back against the sofa, eyes shut, body still. He was frustrated, obviously, but like Ivan, he had been working on his temper.

"If you want, I could try to get you past this stage," Ivan offered, his voice airy and unconcerned.

Alfred cracked open one eye and studied Ivan's profile. Unconcerned his ass; that was such an act! He could see Ivan's fingers twitching from here. A wicked grin spread over Alfred's features as he held out his controller to Ivan. "You think you can do better? Bring it, big guy!"

Ivan accepted the controller with a calm smile and started the level over again. Alfred inched closer to Ivan's side, watching both the screen and Ivan's hands on the control with a smug satisfaction. This game was harder than it looked; he had no doubts that Ivan would crash and burn sooner than he had… but he didn't.

Alfred's smug satisfaction slowly shifted to shocked incredulity as Ivan all but blew through the different challenges and chases the level had to offer. "Dude, what the hell? How are you doing that?!"

"The zombies attack in a pattern. If you were watching for the clues the game gives you, then you know when they are coming next. If you can see the pattern, you know _where_ they are coming from." Ivan's attention was laser focused, dodging obstacles and picking up supplies like he was a walking strategy guide for the game. Alfred sat and stared, a small thin noise of distress escaping his throat as the character Ivan was controlling sped out of the abandoned warehouse and into the clearing beyond, making their way to the secure campsite while the zombies pounded fruitlessly on the locked warehouse door. Ivan was grinning when he moved to select the next level of the game.

"Hey, hey!" Alfred protested, reaching across Ivan's chest for the controller. "This is _my_ game dude.

Ivan moved the controller away from Alfred, keeping it well out of his reach while Alfred all but crawled in his lap in an attempt to wrest the controller from him. " _You_ handed me the controller," he protested, and evil grin playing on his lips.

Alfred sputtered and inched closer to Ivan, reaching over and around him in a vain effort to regain the controller. "Dude, that was for _one_ level. Congratulations, you beat it, now give the controller back."

Ivan feigned considering Alfred's words. "Hmmm, no."

"It's _my_ game," Alfred protested childishly, flailing his arms as Ivan waved the controller just out of his reach. He tried to rise, to approach the controller from the back of the sofa, but Ivan's free arm suddenly wound around him like a steel band, trapping him in place. "Dude! Let me go!"

"Also no," Ivan replied, his shoulders shaking with repressed laughter as Alfred alternately reached for the controller and pushed against Ivan's hold on him.

Behind them a door creaked open and Alfred struggled with renewed energy. "Mattie! Ivan stole _my_ controller!"

"I stole nothing," Ivan insisted, grinning unrepentantly at Alfred. "You _gave_ it to me."

"For _one_ level!" Alfred insisted.

Matthew paused at the end of the hall, taking in the scene before him with an amused smile. He shook his head, chuckled softly, and changed course to get a snack from the kitchen. "If you two are going to flirt, I'm going back to my study to catch up on my reading."

Alfred jolted and stilled in Ivan's arms, a deep flush spreading rapidly over his cheeks. "Th-that's not what this is about, Mattie! We were just playing a game!"

"Aha," Matthew replied, affecting disbelief as he reached into the fridge for a bottle of water and a nearby cabinet to retrieve a granola bar.

"Mattie, I swear!" Alfred sputtered, "I would never!"

Matthew stored both the granola bar and the slim bottle of water in his pockets, then turned and started to make his way to the sofa. Alfred looked genuinely distressed. Matthew's smile softened and he reached out to ruffle Alfred's hair. "I know, Al. I'm just teasing."

Alfred grumbled and crossed his arms, then shifted his sour expression to Ivan. "Can I have my controller back now?"

"If a simple zombie game gets you this worked up, Al, maybe I should play." Matthew propped his crutches on the side of the sofa and nudged Ivan and Alfred apart. "Come on, make room."

Alfred shifted over and Ivan dutifully handed over the controller. "This game is anything but simple!" Alfred insisted as Matthew settled himself between them. "You're part of a small encampment of humans that is trying to survive the zombie apocalypse. You have to run out on different missions to gather supplies and intelligence; you've got some scientists with you trying to undo the Zombie plague. Each mission is harder than the last."

"The key is to watch for the signs that the zombies are about to attack," Ivan added helpfully, gesturing to the screen as Matthew brought up the next level.

"Dude, there's an _art_ to it. It's not that simple," Alfred insisted.

Matthew didn't do that well in the next level. Both Ivan and Alfred offered advice from either side of him and he was busy grinning like an idiot between them. It was a shame to think this all had to end soon… Yes, Alfred and Ivan would still spend time with him, just as they had before he broke his ankle, but it wouldn't be the same. Alfred's jokes from earlier aside, he really did like having their attention… _both_ of them.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Matthew gasped as Ivan pressed the heel of his hand firmly into the muscle of his weakened calf. They had played video games together for several hours, and at the end of it they decided that none of them felt like cooking. Alfred had gone out to bring back take-out and Ivan had offered to massage the muscles of Matthew's injured leg. He wasn't trained in massage, but he was careful and thorough; the pressure felt good.

Ivan glanced up at Matthew, smiled, glanced to the door, frowned slightly, then returned his attention to Matthew's leg, currently pillowed in his lap. This was the third time in as many minutes that Ivan had looked to the door.

"Are you worried about Alfred?" Matthew asked, his soft voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over them.

Ivan sighed, his hands shifting from rubbing to simple caressing.

"It's been a relatively mild winter and he's almost as good at driving in the snow as I am," Matthew continued, reaching to take Ivan's hands in his. "He'll be fine."

"I'm not thinking about Alfred's driving," Ivan murmured, squeezing Matthew's hands gently.

"Then what is it?" Matthew asked, inching closer to Ivan, until he was almost sitting on his lap.

Ivan hesitated for a long moment before lifting one hand to caress the side of Matthew's face. Matthew leaned into the touch at waited. At last Ivan murmured, "Sometimes you look at Alfred the way you look at me…"

Matthew stiffened in Ivan's arms. "No," he insisted, "that's not true."

"It doesn't bother me," Ivan continued. "We'd all need to talk about it, obviously, but I'd still be willing."

Matthew blinked back a sudden rush of tears that confused and distressed him. "I _don't_ love, Alfred. Not like that."

Ivan sighed softly, his thumb rubbing away a stray tear from Matthew's cheek. "I didn't want to upset you… I just… I wondered if the reason you were so opposed to the idea was because you felt you still couldn't trust Alfred." He reached forward and pulled Matthew into a tight embrace. Matthew came willingly, nestling his head into the crook of Ivan's neck.

"Can we stop talking about this, please?" Matthew murmured, sniffling slightly, willing this sudden swell of emotion back where it had come.

"Of course," Ivan agreed, gently rubbing his palm up and down Matthew's back. "I'm sorry."

Matthew shook his head and coughed to clear his throat. "Don't apologize for telling me what's on your mind. I asked, and _not_ talking is probably what undid Alfred and me. Well… that and the alcohol."

"I just want you to be happy, Matvey," Ivan replied.

"I _am_ happy," Matthew whispered vehemently. "Alfred and I are friends. Just _friends_." It was the truth, both of those things were true. And yet…

_Unbidden Matthew's mind supplied an image of a flush faced Alfred working his lips and tongue over Matthew's cock, refusing to be ignored, even as Ivan pushed into Matthew from behind._

" _I'm all yours."_

" _It's okay, Mattie," Alfred assured him, tightening his grip on Matthew's body. "I've got you."_

" _If you did feel… attached… you might not have to choose."_

No. Affection and sexual fantasies were not a relationship. Matthew was _not_ in love with Alfred again. He just wasn't…


	28. Love is Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love finds a way. <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story.
> 
> I wish you all happy holidays, whatever you celebrate!
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 28: Love is Love

 

"How does it feel?"

"There's a slight twinge," Matthew replied, "but I think that's because I've spent so long wrapping it up, that it feels weird to have nothing on it."

 _Finally_ , after eight weeks of that cursed boot and two more weeks of the smaller brace that fit under his shoe, Matthew had been given clearance from Dr. Page to go without additional ankle support, using the smaller brace only at his discretion. Obviously Matthew wanted to use it while he exercised, and during any long period of walking, but it felt _wonderful_ to be able to walk around his own home without having the damned thing strapped to him. It was a small freedom, but it had been hard won.

Alfred knelt at the edge of the sofa, peering at the slightly swollen flesh of Matthew's ankle. "Can I take a look?" His words matched his soft, gentle expression, and Matthew nodded. Alfred reached out, his fingers lightly brushing the skin of Matthew's ankle. Those same fingers swept around to Matthew's heel and, with a whisper of movement, lifted the foot from the floor.

A shiver rippled along Matthew's spine in response to the touch of Alfred's fingers on his skin and the intense scrutiny of his eyes. In that moment Matthew had no doubts that he was the absolute focus of Alfred's attention and concern. He'd been a little hesitant about letting the doctor examine him during his visits as those examinations often involved pain. Those same hesitations did not exist here, with Alfred. Both Ivan and Alfred had shown the utmost care and consideration for Matthew during these long weeks and Matthew, despite his occasional squabbling, had always felt safe in their hands.

Alfred glanced up and smiled, his features haloed by the light of the fire Ivan had built for them. "It's still a little swollen, but the muscles feel strong."

Matthew nodded again. "Dr. Page said the swelling would continue for a while."

Alfred's fingers slid up and around Matthew's calf, caressing and rubbing. It was a friendly, comforting gesture. Alfred's fingers were just under the hem of Matthew's jeans, but the intimacy of the moment sent another powerful shiver down Matthew's spine.

" _If you did feel… attached… you might not have to choose."_

Despite _all_ of Matthew's vehement protestations, both to Ivan and himself, despite even the conversation he'd had with Alfred a few months ago where he'd specified that their relationship was and could only ever be a friendship, his heart seemed determined to betray him. He'd been doing everything he could to fight it, but over and over again Matthew was confronted with the idea that Ivan had put into his head.

" _If you did feel… attached… you might not have to choose."_

If he was completely honest with himself, Matthew knew he wasn't doing _everything_ he could to move on with his life and focus all of his romantic interest on Ivan. He'd been enjoying his time with Ivan and Alfred more than he should. More than once he'd allowed himself to fall asleep on the sofa, wedged snugly between the two of them. They probably assumed it was accidental, but there was no accident or coincidence about it. Matthew had _encouraged_ them with suggestions of movie or video game marathons. He'd even gone so far as to invite them both to stay with him through the holidays in an effort to prolong their time together.

It would end though. It _had_ to end. They would have the holiday season together, and then the winter world conference would come, it was in January this year, and everything would go back to normal. This…this…fascination, nostalgia, whatever it was, it would fade. Matthew knew he could control himself. These feelings weren't Alfred's fault, and he had no intention of making Alfred suffer for them. They would continue their friendship just as they had been. He would _not_ shut Alfred out of his life now that they'd _finally_ reconnected.

Ivan and he hadn't really spoken about Alfred, and Ivan's suggestion _about_ Alfred, not since the last time. It had become an unspoken source of tension between them, because Matthew could _see_ the thoughts and concerns swimming behind Ivan's eyes. They weren't always there, but they haunted Ivan's eyes whenever Alfred and Matthew seemed to have an intimate moment. They'd been there when they all sat close on the couch, when Matthew took Alfred's hand in his during a scary movie, or when they were all talking and Alfred and Matthew got lost reminiscing about a story from days past. Matthew did his best to ignore Ivan's probing looks, there was nothing more to discuss. But when he felt Ivan's gaze settle on him like a weight and turned to see more of those same _suggestions_ etched into his features, Matthew wanted to _scream_.

A hand touched his shoulder. "Mattie?"

Matthew blinked and his eyes focused on Alfred's concerned expression. He flushed slightly with embarrassment. "Sorry, I drifted off for a moment there. What were you saying?"

"You've been really patient with your recovery," Alfred repeated, looking at Matthew intently, trying to make sure he still had his attention.

"It's not like you and Ivan gave me much choice," Matthew replied with a wry smile, as smile Alfred quickly returned.

"I was just asking you if you wanted to celebrate," Alfred continued, "put your ankle to use now that you've got your strength back."

Matthew's eyes flickered to the windows. He'd normally be all for a hike or an outing, but the snow was coming down in earnest tonight, and it had been preceded by freezing rain. Looking back to Alfred he asked, "What do you suggest?"

Alfred stood with a grin and held his hand out to Mattie. "Dance with me."

Matthew blinked at him. "Here? Now?"

Alfred nodded vigorously. "Not _right_ here, obviously. But if we push the table back against the wall there should be more than enough room. Right, Ivan?"

Ivan, who had been cleaning up after dinner, pressed the start button on the dishwasher, then reached for a kitchen towel to dry his hands. He regarded Alfred and Matthew thoughtfully. Matthew's stomach clenched as he searched Ivan's face for more of those damn thoughts or questions that and been plaguing them both…and was surprised to see nothing but easy relaxation. "Da, there is no harm in a little dancing. But we stop if Matthew feels pain or is tired."

"Of course," Alfred agreed, turning his gaze back to Matthew, his hand still outstretched. "What do you say, Mattie?"

Matthew knew he should have thought better of it, should have at least braced himself for a return of his own troubling thoughts and _feelings_ , but Alfred's grin was infectious. He reached out and grasped Alfred's hand without the slightest hesitation. "Sure. That sounds like fun."

With a triumphant whoop, Alfred led Matthew around the back of the sofa and into the open area of the living room. Ivan turned off the lights by the sink and stepped forward to help Alfred move the dining table out of the way. Matthew offered to help, but was pointedly refused. Instead Ivan and Alfred bent their heads together and talked in hushed tones as they moved the chairs back with the table. When Matthew playfully insisted to know what they were talking about, Alfred turned around and came towards him with a lazy grin. "Just deciding on the song," he assured Matthew.

Matthew arched a suspicious eyebrow at Alfred, but lifted his arms up without any spoken protest. Alfred stepped into them, and pulled Matthew close. Very close. From their chests to their thighs there wasn't an ounce of space between them. Matthew's lips parted and his cheeks grew red with an internal heat. They both knew how to dance, in classic and contemporary styles, and they had danced this close before, but not for a long time… not since their wedding.

Matthew's tongue swept over his lips, moistening them, and he tried to ask what song they would dance to, but as soon as the music started Alfred moved against him, and Matthew instinctively responded.

The lights were dim, and Matthew could clearly see the firelight playing over the side of Alfred's face as he smiled down at him. Matthew, flustered and pleased, smiled back. This was one of the dances they had practiced for their _wedding_. Not the first dance, which had been more formal. This dance was slow and intimate; the song was a rich and soulful accompaniment. Their bodies slid over each other and their legs twined together and apart again as they moved through the living room.

Matthew was surprised that Alfred still _remembered_ this song, much less the dance they had chosen to accompany it. Before the wedding it had been all Matthew could do to get Alfred to practice _once_ , and when it came to the actual event Alfred had been too busy socializing with their guests (and drinking) to dance. Whatever Alfred's memory or thoughts about this dance had been at the wedding, he certainly _did_ remember it now. His body pushed and pulled against Matthew, and he pushed and pulled in turn.

They spun in tight circles, never separating for more than a breath. It wasn't a scandalous dance, but it was an intimate one, maybe even a sensual one. Alfred's gaze held Matthew captive as solidly as his arms did. Alfred's hands were firm but completely within the boundaries of 'friendly' as they moved over Matthew's body.

It didn't matter.

They left a burning ache wherever they touched. _Everything_ Matthew had been agonizing about moments ago was thrown into sharp relief. The dance should have been agony…

It wasn't.

The care, the attraction, the lust and the _love_ he held for Alfred bubbled up through his skin, seeped from every pour, and he just _couldn't_ fight it anymore.

"… _I wondered if the reason you were so opposed to the idea was because he felt you still couldn't trust Alfred."_

Damn, Ivan had seen _right_ through him. The only person Matthew had really been deceiving was himself, and possibly Alfred. It was hard to tell what Alfred was thinking. His eyes sparkled, he moved confidently together with Matthew, and his charming, welcoming smile never wavered. Was he warring with the same feelings that had completely overwhelmed Matthew? Had he argued and reasoned with himself in the same way? Had their moments together felt secret and stolen?

 _God_ , if Alfred leaned in for a kiss now, Matthew would let him, even encourage him.

But he didn't…

It was _so_ tempting, but to actually take that step, that leap of faith, felt like too much. Yes, he loved Alfred, but he still loved Ivan too…

_I do not want you to be unhappy…_

Ivan didn't want that for him, and _he_ didn't want that for Alfred. It was too painful to feel your heart tugged in two directions; Matthew could hardly stand it. Alfred might, _might_ be willing to try again, but how would he feel about Ivan? And even if they did try, there was no guarantee it would work. What if it was the one thing that finally broke them _all_ beyond repair?

The notes of the song wound down, and so too did their movements. Alfred brought them to a gentle standstill as the last notes faded, smiling that same _intoxicating_ smile as Matthew looked back at him, flushed and flustered.

"Thank you for the dance, Mattie," Alfred murmured, his voice low, almost husky.

"You're welcome." Matthew's voice was little more than a dazed whisper. He _tried_ to focus his thoughts into something coherent, to take some kind of sensible action, but that was beyond him.

"Are you sure this wasn't too much?" Alfred asked, his fingers ghosting over the skin of Matthew's cheek. "You're a little flushed."

"I'm fine," Matthew breathed, blinking and forcing himself to step back, to get some air. If he didn't, so help him, he might just blurt out unconditional agreement to Ivan's ridiculous suggestion here and now.

"Sit, Matvey." Ivan was beside them suddenly, guiding Matthew back to one of the dining room chairs and pressing a glass of water into his hand. Matthew took it and drank deeply, but it did nothing to abate the sudden heat that had settled under his skin.

"You sure you're okay, Mattie?" Alfred asked, kneeling down beside Matthew and pressing a concerned hand into his knee.

Matthew set the water down on the table and nodded. "Fine," he repeated, "just a bit dizzy."

"There were a lot of turns in that dance," Alfred conceded with an easy smile. "Rest for a minute, then you'll feel better."

Matthew nodded and smiled at them. "Really, I'm fine."

Ivan, who had been intently watching the dance from beside Matthew's modest speaker system, searched Matthew's face, aware of at least some of Matthew's inner turmoil. Matthew, for once, didn't resent the unspoken questions he saw in Ivan's eyes. Those same questions were very nearly on his own lips…but he hesitated. This would be a huge, irrevocable step if he took it…

Ivan offered Matthew a reassuring smile, then turned his attention to Alfred. "While Matthew is resting, would you like to dance?"

Alfred blinked and looked up at him. "What?"

Ivan stepped back and offered his hand to Alfred, just as Alfred had offered his hand to Matthew a few moments before. "Would you like to dance?" Ivan repeated, his voice low and amused. "It will give Matthew a few minutes to recover, and I have already cued a song."

"You did?" Alfred asked, looking to the speaker system then back to Ivan.

"I did."

There was a moment of slight hesitation, before Alfred slipped his hand into Ivan's and allowed the taller man to pull him to his feet. "Sure, why not?"

Ivan led Alfred a little way away from the table, and held him in a slightly more formal dancing posture than the one Alfred had used with Matthew. He glanced over Alfred's shoulder at a still flustered, but quickly recovering Matthew. "Will you press play?"

Matthew nodded and stood, feeling a bit steadier on his feet than he had a moment before. He pressed play and a slow poignant melody filled the air. Matthew was familiar with the song; it was low, put powerful and full of hope. He turned to watch Ivan and Alfred and felt his breath catch in his throat. Alfred and Ivan looked _good_ together. They were both tall, but Ivan was just the slightest bit taller. Matthew thought they might turn this brief dance into another expression of their (friendly) rivalry, but that didn't seem to be the case. Ivan was leading and Alfred was following, looking a bit dazed and flustered himself. Ivan, while not exactly flustered, definitely had all of his attention on Alfred.

It wasn't a risqué dance, it probably didn't have any sexual or sensual tension, but Matthew's imagination, fueled by the rush of emotion he hadn't quite recovered from ran _wild_. What would it be like if they were all together? _Really_ together? Could it work? Would he be jealous?

The tempo of the song picked up for the chorus and Ivan pulled Alfred close against him, spinning them both in tight circles. Alfred's eyes widened and his fingers clutched at Ivan in sudden surprise, but he didn't back down. The chorus ebbed and their dancing slowed, leaving them both a bit breathless. The next time the chorus swelled, Alfred seemed to anticipate the tight spins, tightening his grip on Ivan as laughter bubbled up in his chest. Ivan was laughing too, his eyes sparking with joy and amusement.

The song slowed, beginning to fade out. Ivan and Alfred swayed to a gentle stop, still chuckling and grinning at each other like idiots.

"Did you have to spin me so fast?" Alfred asked, his voice low, his breath still coming in quick pants.

"You liked it," Ivan retorted, his smile shifting to wry amusement.

Alfred made a face and stuck his tongue out at Ivan, but he couldn't hold the expression and broke off laughing a few seconds later.

Ivan chuckled and lifted his gaze to meet Matthew's. The questions that had haunted them both were still reflected there, but not as intensely, and for the first time Matthew was not frightened by them. The questions were still there, but he could see Ivan's patience and support there as well. Ivan's thoughts were coming in loud and clear, despite the silence and stillness of his lips.

_Do you want to give this a try?_

_You don't have to answer right now._

_I'll be right here with you, whatever you decide._

Matthew's heart leapt in his chest, his fingers trembled. When Alfred turned to beam at him, his face relaxed and radiant, the answer fell unbidden from Matthew's lips.

"Yes."

Matthew surprised himself with his answer. He hadn't been planning to speak, but now that he had given his answer, he found he didn't _want_ to take it back. He didn't want to cover it up, deny it, or pretend he wasn't feeling what he was feeling. This thought, this possibility had been weighing heavily on his and Ivan's minds for _months_ now and, despite his doubts and fears, Matthew couldn't deny what his heart was telling him any longer.

"Yes, I want to try."

Ivan's smile softened in immediate understanding, but Alfred's features remained smoothly oblivious. Alfred turned towards Matthew with his hand out. "Fine by me, as long as your ankle's holding up. How is it now? Is there any pain?"

Matthew stepped forward and took Alfred's hand in his. "It's good, feels strong, but I wasn't talking about dancing."

Alfred frowned in slight confusion. His thumbs began rubbing soothing circles in the back of Matthew's hand. "What were you talking about, then? What would you like to do?"

Matthew's lips parted, his throat felt suddenly dry. "I…" he paused, swallowed, and tried again. "I…" His gaze flickered pleadingly to Ivan who read the distress and confusion in Matthew's face and moved to intervene.

"Matvey has been thinking something over for a while now, Alfred," he said, his voice low and soothing. "I think he might have just come to a decision."

Alfred's frown deepened. "Sounds serious." He turned back to Matthew, squeezing his hands lightly. "Is everything okay?"

Matthew nodded and licked his lips again, still trying to summon the words to articulate his point. Oh, God, was he really going to do this?

Alfred smiled reassuringly and reached for Matthew's free hand, squeezing both hands gently. "You can talk to me about anything, Mattie." His voice was soft and low; his smile took on a pained edge. "If there's something you need to tell me, I want to hear it, even if you think it might hurt my feelings."

Matthew shook his head, his teeth digging into his bottom lip with nervous energy. "I do think… I mean I…"

Ivan stepped close, resting his large hands on Alfred and Matthew's shoulders. "Perhaps we should sit down?"

Matthew and Alfred nodded their consent, and Ivan led them gently over to the futon sofa. Ivan sat Matthew down on the sofa next to him and encouraged Alfred to sit on the edge of Matthew's sturdy coffee table so that they could face each other. Alfred sat stiffly, his rising trepidation evident in his every move.

Matthew took a long, slow breath, then looked up to meet Alfred's uncertain expression. Matthew shifted forward and reached for Alfred's hands again, responding to the pain he saw etched in Alfred's features. Alfred readily reciprocated the gesture and for a few long moments they sat together in tense silence, staring at each other.

He didn't know exactly what Alfred was anticipating, but Matthew doubted it had anything to do with what he was actually about to say. Matthew tried to will his thoughts into submission, tried to formulate how he could best express what he was feeling, how he could make himself _understood_.

Alfred's thumbs began rubbing soothing circles in the backs of Matthew's hands again, seeking to comfort irrespective of whatever bad news Alfred might be anticipating. "Breathe, Mattie," Alfred murmured, shifting his own smile from pained to relaxed and welcoming, trying to put Matthew at ease. "I'm right here." Alfred swallowed hard and Matthew could feel the slightest tremor run through his fingers. "I'll _always_ be here when you need me. I promise."

"I love you." As with Matthew's earlier outburst, the one that had begun this difficult conversation, the words came without planning or preparation. They weren't a rational argument or an explanation, just the naked truth.

Alfred's smile waivered, almost became a frown as he fought for mastery of his emotions. "I love you too, Mattie. I always will…" He lifted one of his hands from Matthew's grip and rubbed it self-consciously over his face, as though he felt his control was slipping. "Listen, Mattie, I know I've been spending a lot of time here lately… I knew it wasn't going to last forever. If I've been overstaying my welcome, you don't have to feel bad about asking me to go." A dark, humorless chuckle fell from Alfred's lips. "I know I'm probably getting in the way of you and Ivan. I know you don't get much time together." Alfred shifted, started to rise from the coffee table. "I can—"

A frustrated cry fell from Matthew's lips and he moved forward, tightening his grip on Alfred and _scrambling_ into his lap. Alfred thought he was trying to say goodbye! The thought was intolerable, the _last_ thing that Matthew wanted. He surged forward and pressed his lips to Alfred's in a searing, passionate kiss that left no doubt about his true feelings. He hadn't used the word _love_ lightly. He hadn't meant a gentle, friendly, plutonic love, but a deep, enduring, romantic love that had persisted through years of heartache and Matthew's _best_ efforts to undo it.

Matthew had convinced himself that this love _was_ gone, dead and buried. Maybe it had been, maybe it had only lain dormant while his love for Ivan had blossomed. The details weren't important. It was here now, and it was too strong to be denied.

Alfred jerked in surprise at the impact of the kiss, his hands clasping around Matthew's waist instantly. Then instinct and months of desperate yearning took over. Alfred's fingers tightened in the fabric of Matthew's shirt, pulling him closer with demanding intensity. Their lips parted, breath mingled, and tongues surged against each other, exploring well known and long-missed territory. They pushed against each other violently, gasps and soft moans filling the silence of the room. As suddenly as it had come, the wave of emotion ebbed, leaving Matthew and Alfred both panting when they finally eased back from the kiss. They were still close, _very_ close, limbs and bodies hopelessly intertwined. The barest hint of a hopeful smile edged into Alfred's lips before his eyes flickered to Ivan and all mirth faded.

The words that had failed Matthew earlier surged forth. "I love you, Alfred."

The noise, if not the words, drew Alfred's uncertain expression back to Matthew. "But… what about…" his gaze shifted back to Ivan full of apology and uncertainty.

Cool fingers swept over Alfred's cheek, pulling his attention gently back to Matthew. "I love _Ivan_ too…" Matthew allowed himself the barest of pauses before forcing himself to push onward. If he stopped now he might never get the words out. "I didn't want to admit it for a long time, but I love you _both_ … a-and I know this is a lot to take in, and I probably don't have any right to ask you, but… if you want me, if you want to try again, knowing that I still love Ivan and I'm not going to give him up… then I want that too."

Alfred stared at Matthew in blank astonishment, trying to wrap his mind around this unexpected shift in his reality. His mouth opened, then shut, then opened again, but no intelligible language issued forth. It seemed that, in finding the words he needed, Matthew had robbed Alfred of _all_ his powers of speech.

Beside them Ivan shifted, drawing both of their gazes. He reached forward and, hesitantly, placed his hand on Alfred's knee. Alfred flinched slightly as if he was expecting violence, but offered no further protest. Ivan continued in a calm, clear tone. " _I_ was the one who first suggested to Matthew that he might date both of us. I saw the two of you growing closer and I thought his feelings for you might return. I didn't want to lose him, but I didn't want him to be unhappy either."

Alfred blinked slowly his gaze shifting from Ivan to Matthew, then back to Ivan again. "I… we…." he cleared his throat and tried again. "And you and I would be…?"

Ivan leaned slightly closer, encouraged by the thoughtful hesitation he could see in Alfred's eyes. He hadn't said no outright. He had every right to; this had every possibility of being a colossally bad idea. Ivan was still willing to give it a try. He'd spent so much of his life hiding, trying desperately to avoid tragedy; he wanted to move _towards_ something good for once. "We could be friends, or we could be more. I've thought about this a long time, and I'm willing to explore either option." Ivan squeezed Alfred's knee and offered a reassuring smile. "You don't need to decide now. Even if you said yes we'd have to negotiate what felt comfortable for everyone. I know your head has been too full of Matvey to even see anyone else, much less me."

Alfred was quiet for a long time, his expression withdrawn and thoughtful. Ivan was about to suggest more firmly that Alfred _not_ give his answer today, that he sleep on it at least, when Alfred lifted his gaze to Matthew's worried one and smiled. "Yes. Yes, I'll try."

Matthew surged forward again, a short, sharp cry of excitement and surprise muffled by the forceful kiss he pressed into Alfred's lips. It was a much shorter kiss than the first one they'd shared this evening, but it was no less energetic. They broke apart a moment later, smiling in joy and some small amount of disbelief.

Alfred turned to Ivan again, his smile radiant. "Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you for thinking of me, for being willing to even suggest the idea. I…" He trailed off, shook his head, somewhat overwhelmed, then started again. "Thank you."

By way of an answer Ivan leaned in and pressed his lips to Alfred's, pulling him into yet another kiss. He hadn't shot forward as Matthew had, but he hasn't hesitated either. He _wanted_ Alfred to know he was serious about their possibilities as either friends or lovers.

Alfred let out a small squeak of surprise, but didn't pull back. Slowly, he allowed his eyes to close and leaned in to Ivan's insistent kiss. Their lips slid together, then parted as Ivan's tongue pressed forward into Alfred's mouth. Alfred inhaled, his fingers clenching again in the fabric of Matthew's shirt. Matthew, who was still firmly seated in Alfred's lap, thought he looked a bit overwhelmed, but he gave as good as he got, leaning into Ivan, and sliding his own tongue against Ivan's.

Ivan pulled back a moment later, more slowly than he'd come, a hesitant smiled on his lips. Alfred smiled back and Matthew slumped in Alfred's arms, resting his head against Alfred's shoulders.

"You okay, Mattie?" Alfred asked, turning to look at him.

Matthew nodded slowly. "Just exhausted. I…This was the last thing I expected."

Ivan shot Matthew a gentle, but pointed look. "This has been on your mind for months."

Matthew flushed and reluctantly nodded, lifting his eyes back to Alfred's. "Yeah, but… I never thought it would be really real."

"Any regrets?" Alfred asked. He probably meant his tone to be joking, but Matthew didn't miss the way Alfred's hands tightened their grip on him. "None at all," he replied, leaning forward for one soft kiss. When they parted Matthew sunk his head back to Alfred's shoulder and closed his eyes. He hadn't been kidding about being tired. Now that all his nervous energy was seeping out of him, he might really fall asleep here…

A third hand, larger than Alfred's settled comfortingly on Matthew's back. "All things considered, we all need some rest."

Matthew hummed in agreement, nestling further into Alfred's arms. Alfred chuckled softly and asked, "Do you want me to carry you upstairs?"

Matthew nuzzled his face into the crook of Alfred's neck, groaning softly. "I can walk," he protested at last.

Alfred pressed a gentle kiss into the side of Matthew's temple, and the grip of his arms loosened. "Sleep well, Mattie."

Matthew stood and stretched, hiding a yawn behind his hand. He looked back at Ivan who had also stood, then down at Alfred who was still sitting on the coffee table. He hesitated for a few moments before he nerved to ask, "Will you come with us?"

Alfred's eyebrows shot to his hairline and Matthew rushed to explain. "I'm not asking for anything physical; well maybe some cuddling, but mostly I'd just like to know you're still here in the morning." Another brief hesitation. "It's up to you though… tonight's a lot to take in."

Alfred glanced to Ivan who nodded and repeated, "It's up to you, Alfred. I wouldn't mind."

Alfred was silent and thoughtful for a few moments before he nodded and stood beside them. "I think I'd like that," he murmured, and pulled Matthew close for another brief kiss.

Matthew smiled up at him, linking his hand with Alfred as he pulled away. Ivan led their small group up the stairs, past a sleeping and oblivious Kuma.

They each quietly dressed for bed before slipping between the sheets of Matthew's king sized bed. Ivan was closest to the wall, Alfred was closer to the edge of the bed, and Matthew rested snuggly between them, his limbs tangled with theirs. Perhaps it should have felt awkward, but it didn't. It felt right, reassuring. Ivan's arm draped over Matthew's waist and his hand rested lightly on Alfred's arm, which was also wrapped around Matthew. Alfred and Ivan shared a small, sleepy smile over Matthew's shoulder.

"Goodnight Matvey, goodnight Alfred," Ivan murmured, his smile widening slightly when Alfred and Matthew murmured their echoing goodnights.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: For those who are curious the inspiration for the first song was John Cougar, John Deere, John 3:16 by Keith Urban, and the inspiration for the second song was Better Days by the Goo Goo Dolls. I didn't include any lyrics because the songs weren't the focus of those scenes.


	29. Negotiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning and beginning again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story! I love hearing pack from my readers, it makes my day <3\. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 29: Negotiation

 

 

Alfred had to pee.

He had to pee, his left arm was asleep, and his current position was giving him a crick in his neck, but he was fighting with his body _not_ to move. After all these months of emotional turmoil and longing he was _afraid_ to move. If he moved, if he _breathed_ too hard, then it might not be real.

Matthew was sleeping beside him, curled into Alfred's side, using Alfred's shoulder as a pillow. The morning light played softly over the curves of Matthew's face, making his blonde hair _glow_. Alfred had been watching the gentle rise and fall of Matthew's chest, had been visually tracing the contours of his face. For the first time in over a year Matthew was sleeping _in his arms_ , and they were _alone…_

Ivan hadn't been in the bed when Alfred first woke up. By process of elimination he had to be downstairs. If Alfred had bothered to listen, he would have heard the soft clinks and stirrings in the kitchen, which bespoke of Ivan's preparing breakfast, but Alfred was so focused, so consumed with the solid weight of Matthew against him, that he didn't have any attention left for anything else.

Matthew sighed softly and nuzzled against him. Alfred grinned like an idiot and nuzzled Matthew right back. He still couldn't believe that Matthew _wanted_ to be with him again, that they were… dating? Seeing each other? It was hard to put an name on it. He'd never been with someone who was dating someone else before. That was a point that bore greater examination.

Last night, in the thrill and emotion of the moment, Alfred had told himself that Ivan's presence didn't matter, that he would accept Matthew in his life at _any_ cost. But in the clear light of the morning he knew that just _wasn't_ true. Blind devotion and loyalty would be every bit as damaging to their relationship as the neglect and emotional abuse he had inflicted on Matthew when they were married.

If this arrangement had any chance of working at all, Alfred would need to face the hard questions: How did he feel about sharing Matthew with Ivan? How did he feel about _Ivan_?

_We could be friends, or we could be more. I've thought about this a long time, and I'm willing to explore either option._

Friends… He could be friends with Ivan. They _were_ friends, actually. In some ways their friendship now was better than it had been before the tension of the cold war. Alfred had made a pointed effort to be friendly with Ivan early in his recovery. Granted, that was motivated mostly because of his own selfish desire to apologize to Mattie. In retrospect Ivan had probably seen right through Alfred; he was smart like that. Still, Ivan had been kind to Alfred. He'd made a point of keeping in touch with Alfred, supported Alfred in his recovery, and had even been so kind as to share some of his own story with Alfred. These things alone went above and beyond anything Alfred had expected. And then Ivan had _really_ dropped a bomb on him…

_I don't resent you for loving Matthew._

_How_ Ivan had been able to not only avoid anger, but to actually seem to _understand_ and empathize with Alfred was beyond understanding.

_I've thought about this a long time…_

It was possible, likely even, that by the time Ivan offered Alfred his sympathy and understanding he was already considering, maybe even planning for, the possibly that Matthew's feelings for Alfred would return. If so, Alfred couldn't blame him for it. It was a complicated and difficult reality they were facing.

Alfred didn't feel that Ivan had tried to influence either Matthew or himself. From what he understood Ivan had only mentioned his thoughts to Matthew once or twice, and before last night Alfred hadn't known that the idea of both of them dating Matthew was even a possibility.

It also appeared Ivan had been well aware that his thoughts and suggestions may come to nothing. Matthew may have stayed true to his resolve to be friends and only friends with Alfred. It was only when that resolve crumbled that Ivan's concerns had proved valid, and his proposed plan had any likelihood of being implemented.

Alfred knew Ivan was a man of integrity. He wouldn't offer false friendship just to have an easy answer for Matthew's conflicted feelings. He really was serious in his offer…

_We could be friends, or we could be more._

There was another thought. Something _more_ …with Ivan? Alfred really wasn't sure how he felt about that. At the moment he couldn't seem to muster a strong or even a weak opinion one way or the other…

_I know you're head has been too full of Matthew to even see anyone else, much less me._

How true that was… The concept that there could ever _be_ anyone else but Matthew in his heart was almost beyond imagining…

" _If you two are going to flirt, I'm going back to my study to catch up on my reading."_

… _almost_ beyond imagining, but not quite. A bemused smile crept over Alfred's features as he remembered the way Ivan had held him while they'd fought over the video game. It had just been some friendly roughhousing, but it helped to know he _did_ feel comfortable in Ivan's arms. Then there were the kisses… both the chaste kiss Ivan had given him one night before dinner, and the kiss they'd shared last night which had been _anything_ but chaste… No, Alfred didn't have a definite answer about Ivan or _how_ he wanted to proceed, he only knew that he _did_.

With one last wistful glance at Matthew's sleeping face Alfred began to disentangle himself, gently so as not to wake him. First stop was the bathroom to relieve his screaming bladder, then, with somewhat less confidence, he made his way downstairs.

Kumajiro was, as expected, lounging by the sliding glass door, reveling in the light, if not the warmth, of the morning. Ivan was seated by the breakfast island, calmly sipping a cup of tea. His back was to the sliding glass door and the light haloed around him. He looked up when Alfred entered and smiled softly. "Good morning."

Alfred nodded and returned the smile. "Good morning." He moved forward, padding across the floor in bare feet. When he saw that Ivan had made coffee as well as tea he let out a grateful exclamation. "Oh thank God."

Ivan chuckled softly. "You can call me Ivan."

"Ha, ha," Alfred muttered dryly, pouring himself a cup with a splash of cream and an ungodly amount of sugar.

"Here I thought Matthew was the one who despised mornings," Ivan mused, blowing softly on his tea to cool it.

"I like mornings just fine," Alfred replied, easing into the seat beside Ivan, "as long as I have my coffee."

Ivan nodded. "I remembered."

Alfred sipped the coffee and bit back a soft moan of appreciation. It was strong, just as he liked it. When he had swallowed he turned to regard Ivan. "You don't miss much, do you?"

"I try not to," Ivan agreed, his eyes sweeping over Alfred before their gazes met once more. "You are nervous."

"Not nervous exactly," Alfred sighed, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "It's just that yesterday was a lot, and I was completely blindsided."

Alfred returned his free hand to his lap, letting it slide carelessly down his body. Ivan surprised him by immediately reaching forward and taking his hand. He squeezed gently, and his voice was a low murmur as he spoke. "I know. Even if we all feel the same way this morning as we did last night, it doesn't mean we always will. There's no shame in that. All relationships take work and I..." Ivan frowned and looked away for a moment, "I don't have the best track record of holding up my end."

"Neither do I," Alfred reminded him, squeezing Ivan's hand in turn. "People can change though. You've been great to Mattie… and to me."

"Thank you." Ivan lifted Alfred's hand and, for a moment, Alfred thought he would kiss it, but Ivan hesitated. "If you need more time to think about where you stand, with Matvey or with me, if you want more time to think about things, don't be afraid to say so. I don't want you to feel pressured or rushed." Ivan paused and a rueful look passed over his face. "I probably shouldn't have kissed you last night, not without your permission." His expression turned more sober. " _If_ this has any chance to work at all, we'll need to be honest with each other."

Alfred smiled and pulled Ivan's hand towards him, kissing the knuckles. It felt a bit strange, it was such an intimate gesture, but he knew from Ivan's expression that he had his undivided attention. "Thank you, and don't worry about the kiss, bug guy. If I had any objections, I would have voiced them. I kissed you back, remember?" Alfred set his coffee down and ran a hand through his hair. "I _have_ been doing a lot of thinking this morning… I'm not done thinking, but I do know that I still want to give this a try. I'm not really sure how _our_ relationship will go, yours and mine."

"You do not have to answer right away," Ivan said, repeating his words from last night.

Alfred nodded. "That's good, because I _don't_ have a definitive answer… You were right when you said I couldn't see anyone but Matthew." He blew out a breath and glanced down at their joined hands. A reluctant smile crept over his features. "I think… I think I would like to date you. I don't know if any romantic feelings _would_ develop, but I'm willing to give it a try."

Alfred dared to glance up. Ivan was smiling at him, and this time when he pulled Alfred's hand close, he _did_ press a kiss into the knuckles. "Me too."

"You call that a kiss?"

As one, Ivan and Alfred turned to find a rumpled, sleepy looking Matthew smiling wryly at them from the bottom of the stairs.

"I don't want to rush Alfred or myself, Matvey," Ivan protested gently.

Matthew shrugged as he approached them. "I know, I was only joking."

"I wouldn't mind," Alfred said, drawing surprised looks from the other two.

Matthew spoke first. "Really?"

"Are you sure?" Ivan asked, his expression equal parts surprise and curiosity.

Alfred nodded. "I'm sure. If I didn't trust you I wouldn't be doing this, and it's not like we haven't kissed before. We just kind of came to an agreement, so let's call it a kiss to seal the deal."

"As you wish," Ivan replied, turning to face Alfred properly. Alfred turned as well and leaned in. It was surprisingly easy, almost natural. Alfred settled his hands on Ivan's shoulders for balance, and Ivan placed his on Alfred's waist, tugging him a bit closer. Their lips came together smoothly, gently, and Alfred found his mouth opening against Ivan's almost instantly. This time it was Alfred who pressed his tongue forward into Ivan's mouth. Ivan responded in kind, tugging Alfred closer and pressing into him as he slid his tongue along Alfred's.

They began a sensual push-pull that was vaguely reminiscent of their now friendly rivalry. It wasn't a power struggle, nor was it overly passionate, but it definitely had some oomph behind it. When they parted, several long moments later, Alfred's lips tingled, his face was flushed, and thin tendrils of slick heat pooled low in his abdomen. Ivan looked similarly affected and slow smiles crept over both their features.

"That was quite the show." Matthew's voice was low and husky with the lingering effects of sleep and some slight effects of arousal. Ivan and Alfred turned to find Matthew, having not participated in their kiss, was also flushed and slightly glossy-eyed. He stepped forward and pulled first Alfred, the Ivan into a short sharp kiss. His fingers trembled against their backs as he pulled them both close for a hug. Ivan and Alfred came willingly, wrapping their arms around each other as well as Matthew.

This thing they were starting between them was new, and as such it was fragile, but the very fact that it could be, that it _was_ starting, filled them each with a kind of hope for the future that none of them had anticipated.

 

~*~*~*~

 

"What's the username again?"

Matthew rolled his eyes and bit back an unkind comment he knew Alfred would take harshly, and not as the joke that would be intended. Instead he reached for the laptop and murmured, "Let me."

Alfred surrendered the laptop readily and Matthew deftly logged into the video chat system. They were both lying on their stomachs on the plush carpet of the living room in Alfred's home in Maine. There _was_ a sofa, but they had been alternately sitting and lying here playing video games and now that it was time to make the call, it was just easier not to move.

Ivan was overseas for an important meeting with Iryna and some of their respective politicians. It was an important meeting focused on improving relations between the two countries so, naturally, Ivan had needed to attend in person.

They were a little over two months into the New Year and things had begun to return to normal... Well, their new version of normal anyway. Alfred, Ivan and Matthew made an effort to meet as often as they could, despite their responsibilities as personified nations. Because of their close proximity it was easy for Alfred and Matthew to spend more time together. At Matthew's request they weren't always together as they had been during their brief marriage. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy spending time with Alfred, he was falling in love with Alfred all over again, but he didn't want to fall back into old patterns. Even if Alfred made a significant effort to spend equal amounts of time at Matthew's home and his own, Matthew didn't want to become dependent on Alfred's company again. This might have been defensiveness on Matthew's part, but both Alfred and Ivan understood, and did their best to honor his wishes.

While Ivan was with them less frequently in person, they both made an effort to reach out to him through calls, texts, and video chats, both alone and together. Ivan had been grateful for their attention and their equal determination to ensure no one felt left out.

Over their winter holidays they had several long and detailed conversations about what they were and were not comfortable with. Unsurprisingly, they were relatively compatible, and things had progressed rather smoothly. Matthew suspected (rightly) that Alfred made a point of giving him and Ivan time alone. They'd all been affectionate with each other, but as of yet Alfred had yet to take things further with Ivan _or_ Matthew. He simply didn't want to rush things, and he didn't want Ivan or Matthew to feel the need to hold back with each other.

Matthew found Ivan's username and initiated the call. Five seconds later, Ivan accepted the call. The screen filled with an image of him and Iryna sitting side by side, smiling into the webcam.

"Hi, Ivan! Hi Iryna!" Matthew and Alfred chorused.

"Matthew, Alfred," Ivan replied, nodding to each of them in turn.

"It's good to see you both again," Iryna added. "I haven't seen either of you since the last world conference."

While Ivan, Matthew, and Alfred had decided on keeping their respective room reservations, they had spent most of their free time during the winter world conference together, including several outings with Ivan's sister.

"It's good to see you too, Iryna," Matthew replied. "How are talks between your politicians going?"

Ivan chuckled softly. "Things were stagnant at first, but then Iryna spoke her piece. She let them all know how important she felt these meetings were; that _all_ of our people stood at a significant disadvantage if we let tensions continue unchecked. She spoke about the _lives_ that could be ruined under the right circumstances, and how much stronger we could both be as allies."

"It wasn't anything extraordinary," Iryna protested.

"On the contrary," Ivan said, "it looked like you were ready to brow beat them into submission if they didn't start putting forth an effort."

"Ivan!" Iryna giggled despite herself. "You make me sound like a tyrant!"

"Expert negotiator would be a better title," Ivan replied with an unrepentant grin.

"That's awesome!" Alfred broke in. "They've been pushing you both around for too long; you tell them, Iryna!"

"I've been tempted to behave badly more than once" Ivan began. He spoke with a patient calm Matthew knew he rarely felt when it came to the matter of him and his sister being able to see each other, "It really was a difficult meeting. It's been a long time since we could be in the same room with politicians from both countries without it devolving into a screaming match, and Iryna was a brilliant mediator."

"I'm sorry it was rough," Alfred replied with a sigh, grieved to see how difficult this situation still was for Ivan. Looking to Iryna again he said, "Good job communicating and setting boundaries, too. Skills like that really do help keep you sane."

"They do," Iryna agreed solemnly. She and her brother still had a long road in front of them to resolve the political tensions between their nations, but if they succeeded it would be more than worth it. Even if they failed they would always have each other as family; she was determined that nothing would ever take that away from them again.

"How are you both getting along?" Ivan asked. "I can see you haven't managed to burn the house down."

"Ha ha ha," Alfred replied drily. "We're getting along _fine_ , thank you."

"Someone asked Alfred to be their sponsor," Matthew chimed in, and Alfred flushed.

"Really?" Iryna smiled encouragingly. "You must be making quite an impression at your meetings."

Ivan nodded. "It shows a lot of trust."

"It does," Alfred echoed. "And I was honored, but I only have one year clean. It's too soon. I want to have at least two years first."

"It's not always easy to put your own needs first," Ivan said, "but if you don't—"

"I could be looking at relapse," Alfred finished for him. "That's not worth the risk, not by a long shot." He glanced to Matthew, then back to Ivan. "I have too much to lose." Matthew leaned into Alfred and all three of them shared a grateful smile.

"What about you, Matthew?" Iryna asked. "How have you been?"

"Business as usual, really," Matthew replied, shifting his gaze from Ivan to Iryna. "I can't complain. It's been a good year." Again Ivan, Alfred, and Matthew shared a besotted smile.

Alfred was the first to speak again, perking up with sudden exuberance. "Hey, when you get back Ivan, can we all go to the movies together? There's this new horror film that's going to be coming out that weekend."

Ivan smiled knowingly and looked to Matthew. "What do you think, Mavey?"

Matthew gave him an arch expression. "Cuddle session at the theater? Sounds good to me." All feigned seriousness broke away in a fit of laughter when Alfred nudged his body forcefully against him.

"I'm not that bad!"

"Alfred," Matthew gasped between chuckled, "the last time we watched a horror movie together I couldn't feel my arm after the first twenty minutes!"

"You lasted that long?" Ivan retorted with a wry smile. "Mine was numb after five minutes."

The soft fabric of Alfred's hoodie brushed against his cheeks as he buried his face in his arms and grumbled, "I hate you both."

"No you don't." Matthew's words rumbled soft and smooth over Alfred's ear and a shiver rippled along Alfred's spine.

Alfred lifted his head slightly, cracked open one eye, and found Matthew's warm familiar smile waiting for him. "No, I don't," he admitted lifting his head the rest of the way and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to Matthew's lips.

As one they turned to look at Ivan, who was smiling back at them through the camera. Part of their long talks after their new relationship had been established were about jealousy, especially since Ivan and Alfred had only ever been friends to each other, and may end up remaining only friends. There had been surprisingly little jealousy on any side. Matthew encouraged Ivan and Alfred, who were obviously newer in their relationship, to spend time alone together, often waiting at home to hear the details of their dates. Alfred had been surprised to find that when he saw Ivan hold Matthew the primary emotion he felt was gratitude that they had _both_ decided to let him into their hearts.

Their talk with Ivan and Iryna stretched on for almost an hour before the video feed started to lag, making the conversation sound unnaturally jumpy.

"Hello?" Matthew called, checking the computer's internet connection. Everything seemed solid.

"…ear me?"

"Ivan?" Now Alfred was leaning close to the screen, his hand outstretched as though the lag would be as easy to rub away as a spot.

"..storm moving through," Now it was Iryna's voice. "We might lose power."

Matthew nodded ruefully. "We should probably get going then. See you soon?"

The choppy image of Ivan nodded. "See you soon. I love you Mat—y. Don't watch the m—ie without me, Alfred."

"I love you too," Matthew murmured.

"I promise. Come back safe big guy." They waved at the screen until the call ended and it went dark.

Matthew sighed and pushed the computer away, resting his head on partially folded arms. It was hard being apart from either of his lovers so often. Their relationship was still new, exciting, and somewhat uncharted territory. Matthew and Ivan's relationship hadn't changed, and Alfred and Ivan's romance was still just beginning. Matthew and Alfred loved each other, but they were still working to rebuild trust and deepen their emotional intimacy.

Matthew had worried these drastically different places their individual relationships were in would damage them as a whole, but Alfred and Ivan had assured him any sour feelings were fleeting. All three men were determined to be honest about their feelings without trying to force anything. A relationship forged on deception could only ever end in heartbreak.

"You okay?" Alfred's voice was preceded by his hand pressing lightly into the small of Matthew's back.

"Mmh hmm," Matthew replied, pressing up into the heat of Alfred's palm. "I'm just a bit tired… and I miss him." There was a time several months ago when Matthew would have glanced nervously at Alfred, trying to gauge his reaction, but now, after repeated reassurances and discussions, he trusted that Alfred wouldn't make him guess what he was feeling, he would just say something.

The hand on Matthew's back dipped lower, slid under his sweater. "I miss him too," Alfred murmured, shifting closer.

Matthew sighed and pressed back into Alfred's hand, reveling in the heat of the gentle caress moving over his back.

"He'll be here soon," Alfred promised, pressing a kiss to the back of Matthew's neck. "We'll see him again in two days."

Strong, warm fingers pressed into the muscles of Matthew's back, drawing lines of heat down either side of his spine. He blocked out the dim light of the afternoon by closing his eyes, concentrating on the sensation. Alfred's fingers drew intricate patterns on his back, and the whisper of soft lips tickled over Matthew's ear. Matthew's smile returned, shifting into a lazy one as he reveled in Alfred's quiet attention. Matthew thought for a moment that he might drift off, right here on the carpet. When he felt Alfred's hands slide over and around his hips, turning him onto his back, Matthew went willingly; already turning his head for the kiss he knew would be coming.

Alfred's mouth met his, warm, wet, and slow, drawing a soft moan from Matthew's lips. Matthew's arms wound themselves around Alfred's neck, and Alfred's hands wandered, exploring and caressing the warm skin underneath Matthew's shirt. Their mouths opened and their tongues slid over each other in a sensual dance that was both familiar and different. Before Matthew had allowed his doubts to exacerbate his natural shyness, and thus had been fairly timid and submissive with Alfred. Now he was more confident, bolder. He wasn't about to do something without Alfred's consent, but he wasn't holding back either.

It was Alfred who first eased back, pressing several sweet kisses to Matthew's lips as he retreated. He brushed kiss-swollen lips over the sensitive skin of Matthew's cheek until he reached the swell of Matthew's earlobe and drew it gently between his teeth. Matthew flushed at the sensation, heat slowly pooling in his abdomen. Alfred's hands weren't idle either. They pushed Matthew's shirt up as they explored his chest, rubbing suggestively over Matthew's nipples until they perked up beneath Alfred's fingers.

Matthew turned his head, seeking Alfred's lips again as his own hands slipped from Alfred's neck, down his chest and around his waist. Alfred's fingers quested higher, brushing the edge of Matthew's shoulder. Alfred retreated slightly; air and vibrations washed over the heated skin of Matthew's lips.

"Mattie, can I?"

Matthew blinked open his eyes and looked up into Alfred's flushed face. They were so close that he'd _felt_ the words as much as he'd heard them, but it still took him a moment to piece together what Alfred meant. Then he felt the pressure of Alfred's hands at the fabric of his shirt and nodded. He sat up, a solid weight settling over his thighs as Alfred straddled him and pulled the fabric of Matthew's shirt over his head. A rush of cool air ghosted over Matthew' skin, replaced a moment later by the warm, insistent press of Alfred's body, easing them both back to the floor.

Alfred was wearing a button up flannel to ward off the last of the winter chill. Matthew's fingers found the small round buttons and tugged at them questioningly. Alfred nodded and eased back slightly, his gaze locked with Matthew's. Even in his recovery Alfred was impatient and somewhat impulsive by nature. Matthew was expecting every moment that he would lean down to kiss him again, but he did not. He seemed content to pin Matthew with his eyes; even though it was not a physical touch, Matthew felt himself shiver in response. Matthew had never really looked into someone's eyes so intently while he was undressing them; there was something powerful and intimate about that moment.

The last button fell away and Matthew reached up, sliding Alfred's shirt off his shoulders and down his arms by feel. Alfred leaned back and as soon as his shirt had cleared his fingertips Matthew reached up to pull him back down for a searing kiss. Matthew squirmed underneath him, trying to open his legs. Alfred shifted to accommodate him, settling himself neatly inside of Matthew's legs instead of overtop them.

Matthew had a slight frame, and it was easy to forget how strong he was. Alfred felt that strength move over him as Matthew's hooked his legs around Alfred's waist, pulling him closer. Alfred gasped when he felt the first strings of Matthew's arousal against his own. He rocked his hips instinctually against Matthew and swallowed the groan that followed with a kiss.

Alfred jolted in Matthew's arms when he felt Matthew's hand run along the skin of his back, dip beneath the hem of his jeans, and squeeze the rounded flesh it encountered. Matthew hesitated a moment and Alfred rocked into him again, a startled moan escaping his lips.

"Alfred," Matthew gasped, the fingernails of his other hand biting into the skin of Alfred's back.

Alfred's shifted, forced himself to make space so that his hand could slip between their bodies and palm Matthew through the front of his jeans. Matthew shuddered and rocked up into him.

Skin slid over skin as Alfred squirmed lower, insinuating most of his body between Matthew's legs. His fingers skimmed the boundary where cloth met flesh, fingering the button of Matthew's jeans without making any attempt to undo it.

Matthew nodded frantically, his heated gaze burning into Alfred's skin. "Yes," he breathed, "Yes, please."

A slow, wicked smile crept over Alfred's features as he pulled the button of Matthew's jeans free from its mooring. He had maneuvered down Matthew's body quickly, but now he seemed determined to draw out every movement, every touch, and every kiss. He peeled Matthew's jeans down with deliberate, agonizing slowness, trailing his fingers over each new patch of skin in tantalizing caresses. Alfred's lips followed his hands, pressing sucking kisses into heated flesh as Matthew squirmed and bucked underneath him.

Matthew's head swam and his breath came in ragged pants; he felt like he was going to combust. Fabric lifted away from his hips, sliding down his legs and off over his toes as Alfred _finally_ removed the last of Matthew's clothing.

Matthew was tracking Alfred's progress with hungry eyes. He watched Alfred take him in hand; saw the glitter of passion in Alfred's eyes as they locked with his. The moisture on Alfred's tongue glistened as it poked through the rosy flesh of his lips. A warm, wet, velvet sensation blossomed on the head of Matthew's cock, rippling over his hips and thighs, as Alfred pressed his tongue into the glands. Matthew moaned and trembled under Alfred's ministrations, unable to ground himself but clutching at the fibers of the carpet beneath him. He needed to get his hands on Alfred, _now_.

"Alfred!" he gasped, wriggling to his knees. Alfred pulled back, shifting his weight to his knees as Matthew lifted himself from the carpet.

"Mattie are you—" Words died on Alfred's lips when Matthew pulled him into the roughest, messiest kiss they'd shared in _years_. There was a frantic clash of tongues, teeth, lips, and breath. Fingers dug into shoulders and hair, clutching and pulling with a desperate intensity. For a few moments they could barely _breathe_. The storm passed as quickly as it had come, leaving them both flushed and panting.

"Where's the lube?" The words were a vibrated murmur against Alfred's lips.

"Sofa," Alfred breathed, pressing a short, sharp kiss against Matthew's lips before he was able to tear himself away and grope blindly between the cushions of the nearby piece of furniture. Long, warm arms wound around Alfred from behind, pulling him back into Matthew's chest. Alfred was about to turn his head for another kiss when he felt the wet press of open mouthed kisses on the side of his neck. He gripped Matthew's hands tightly, locking him in place despite the very clear fact that Matthew had no intention of letting him go.

Matthew's tongue followed his lips, drawing broad wet stripes along the column of Alfred's neck. "Lube?" he whispered in the brief pause before his teeth scraped softly over flushed skin.

Alfred groaned and shuddered. "You're not making it very easy to look, Mattie." His voice was breathless and pleading.

Matthew's response was also a whisper, breathed against the shell of Alfred's ear. "Do you want me to stop?"

Alfred's head twitched slightly, the beginning of a 'no' shake, until he remembered how close Matthew was. He didn't want to hurt him. Not now, not ever again. "No," Alfred gasped, his fingers tightening over Matthew's arms for a moment. "I'll manage." Matthew hummed contentedly, pressing haphazard kisses into Alfred's neck, ears, and shoulders.

Teeth bit sharply into his own lip as Alfred tried to _force_ himself to concentrate. Trembling fingers pulled away from Matthew's arms and reached again for the cushions of his sofa, into the dark places underneath them. He felt Matthew's hands stray lower, unfastening his jeans and pulling them slowly off his hips. At last his fingers closed around a cool plastic bottle, and he withdrew it, turning in Matthew's arms to pull him into an energetic, victorious kiss.

Alfred pulled back just far enough to draw air into his lungs again and started to ask, "Do you want to—?"

Matthew gently shook his head. "No. You, _please_."

When they were together before, they had both topped and bottomed for each other. Matthew had bottomed more frequently only because he had a slight preference for it, while Alfred had a slight preference for topping. Matthew knew he would top for Alfred again, probably soon, but right now he wanted to feel Alfred against him, _inside_ him.

"Okay," Alfred breathed, his fingers moving in a tender caress down the length of Matthew's torso. He moved to guide them both back to the floor, but stopped when he felt Matthew pull back.

"Lie down on your side," Matthew murmured. Alfred obeyed without question. Matthew smiled down at him for a moment, letting his eyes move over every inch of skin laid bare before him. Then he shifted and laid down on his side as well, his head nestled just in front of Alfred's throbbing erection.

Alfred took the hint immediately, licking a hot, wet strip up to the tip of Matthew's cock, before working his lips over the head. Matthew moaned and reached for Alfred, drawing his cock into his mouth, working him deep into his throat. Alfred jolted in his arms and moaned, sending sensual vibrations through Matthew's erection and down into his testicles. Alfred's hands followed the vibrations, parting Matthew's legs, and caressing the skin he found there, taking the same leisurely pace he had when he undressed Matthew.

Matthew pulled back and voiced his displeasure. "Alfred! Touch me!"

Alfred chuckled softly, and pulled back far enough to murmur, "I am touching you."

"Alfred, you know what I—ah!" Matthew gasped and bucked when he _finally_ felt a lubed finger pressing insistently against his entrance.

"Impatient tonight, huh?" Alfred mused, working the fingers of one hand slowly inside Matthew, while the others trailed tantalizingly over the heated skin of his cock.

"It's _your_ fault," Matthew grumbled, leaning forward to press and move his tongue insistently over the sensitive glands at the tip of Alfred's cock.

Alfred moaned softly, moving his finger against the tight, hot walls of muscle inside Matthew. "Let me take care of you, Mattie," he breathed.

Matthew cried out softly as he felt Alfred's finger nestle completely inside him and rocked against the intrusion, still impatient for more.

Alfred refused to approach anything that even vaguely resembled roughness, but he did move with more purpose, his fingers determined in their exploration of his long estranged lover.

Matthew released his pent up frustrations by working his mouth fervently over Alfred's cock, hoping to get him as riled up as he had gotten Matthew. Alfred responded in kind, pressing two, and then three fingers, pausing only for lube and brief assurances that Matthew was not in pain.

Alfred's determined stretching of Matthew's innermost muscles almost brought the heat pooling in Matthew's abdomen to a boil. At last he pulled back and gasped, "Now, Alfred. Now, _please_."

Alfred pulled back from Matthew with a wet pop and a gasp, shifting onto his knees and moving between Matthew's trembling legs. Matthew wrapped one leg around Alfred's hips, and lifted the other up onto Alfred's shoulders. Alfred grasped Matthew's leg with one hand, turning his head to press kisses into the calf as he eased himself inside Matthew's tight passage.

Matthew gasped and arched his back up off the carpet as he felt Alfred enter him. His hands scrabbled for purchase before Alfred reached out to take them, letting Matthew's leg slide down to wrap around his other hip. Alfred grasped Matthew's hands firmly, pressing them back into the carpet on either side of Matthew's head as he leaned in for a searing kiss. They rocked against each other forcefully. In the morning they would each be sporting rug burn, but neither could find it in themselves to _care_ at that moment.

Alfred tried several times to sneak one hand down Matthew's chest to his leaking cock, but each time Matthew would moan and gasp against his lips, tightening his grip on Alfred's hand until his knuckles turned white. After a few attempts Alfred relented, giving himself over to their lovemaking.

Hips snapped up to meet hips, heated flesh rubbed together and, by degrees, Matthew's flush spread from his cheeks, to his neck, then partway down his chest. Matthew broke away from the kiss, unable to maintain it as he gasped for breath. His head lolled on the carpet, and his thighs clenched around Alfred's hips, trying to tug him closer.

Matthew's breath hitched, and his body drew taunt as a bowstring under Alfred's relentless assault. His lips parted and his eyes fluttered open, locking instantly on Alfred's heated face. A broken cry of pleasure started low in Matthew's chest as every muscle clenched, squeezing Alfred tightly and signaling the release that followed moments later.

Alfred's hips stuttered against Matthew's, grinding into him as Matthew's twitching inner muscles pushed him over the edge as well. He trembled in an effort _not_ to collapse on top of Matthew, just barely managing to shift his weight slightly to the side. Matthew reached up and pulled Alfred against his chest with trembling fingers, heedless of the mess between them.

Alfred tilted his head up, immediately seeking Matthew's lips for a languid, breathless kiss. "I love you," he gasped.

Matthew slid one hand up and over Alfred's cheek, pulling him down for another slow kiss. They parted a moment later, their foreheads pressed gently together. "I love you too, Alfred," Matthew murmured, smiling giddily into their kiss. "Thank you. Thank you for being willing to try this, with me and Ivan."

Alfred shook his head and tightened his arms around Matthew. "I never thought... I'm just… I'm glad you let me back into your heart again."

Matthew smiled and leaned up for a short, sweet kiss. "Me too."

They lay silently together for several long minutes, until the sweat and semen started to grow cold on their skin. At last Alfred pressed a kiss into Matthew's temple and murmured, "We should take a bath."

A laze grin spread over Matthew's lips. "In that large soaker tub you have upstairs?"

Alfred nodded. "That's the one."

Matthew shifted, gently extracting himself from Alfred's embrace. As they stood Matthew shot Alfred a mischievous look. "Race you there?"

Alfred hesitated for a moment then shot forward on unsteady legs, running for the stairs. "You're on!" he called over his shoulder, pleased beyond measure to hear Matthew's breathless laughter following close behind him.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The knocking was so soft that if Alfred had been doing anything else but quietly reading, he wouldn't have heard it. He marked his place, set his copy of the Big Book on the coffee table, and crossed the room to answer the door. Ivan was waiting for him on the other side with a tired smile. "Hey," Alfred greeted, leaning up to pull him into a hug. "I gave you a key for a reason you know; you could've just walked in."

Ivan's arms wound tightly around Alfred, settling him close against Ivan's chest. Weight settled firmly against Alfred's shoulders and back as Ivan leaned into him, but he offered no protest. He could handle it, and he knew how tiring traveling could be. This must have been a particularly rough travel day for Ivan to look so worn out; he was normally antsy after a long plane ride.

"Hello, Alfred," Ivan murmured, nuzzling into his neck and shoulder. "I saw the light was on, and I thought it would be better to knock."

"If I wasn't comfortable with you having access to my home, I wouldn't have given you a key, or agreed to date you," Alfred replied sensibly. "Come on, let's get you inside; it's going to start raining any minute."

Ivan came willingly, but his movements were sluggish, his voice soft and breathy with denied sleep.

"Are you going to make it up the stairs okay?" Alfred asked, half jokingly. "Mattie tried to wait up for you, but I sent him to bed after the third time he fell asleep on the sofa."

"I'll be fine," Ivan assured him, setting his bags down so that he could turn and close the door. The lock clicked firmly into place and Ivan indulged in a full body stretch, lifting his arms above his head and stretching his muscles taut. The movement caused his shirt to ride up, exposing several inches of his torso to the warm air of Alfred's living room. The tension eased as Ivan relaxed, letting his arms fall back to his sides. When he turned back to Alfred, Ivan found him eyeing him appreciatively.

Their eyes locked and unlike Matthew, Alfred didn't blush or offer up a coy smile. Instead he smirked, letting his appreciation show confidently in his face. They'd known each other for a long time and Ivan could read Alfred's message loud and clear. With his expression and his body language he was saying, " _Yeah, you caught me staring; are you going to_ _ **do**_ _anything about it?_ "

Long fingers brushed over Alfred's cheeks and around to the back of his neck as Ivan reached for him, pulling him into a warm, wet, sensual kiss. The fabric of Ivan's wool coat was slightly rough against Alfred's fingers as he gripped it, holding Ivan close. It was strange to think how much had changed in the past several months. Before the beginning of the year Alfred would never have thought it possible he'd be greeting Ivan with a kiss, or looking forward to lying in bed with him as they drifted off.

Alfred hadn't dated that may people in his life. He'd certainly never shared a bed with someone this early in a relationship, but he found he didn't mind it. It was nice to have Ivan close by.

Ivan drew back slowly, pressing one more chaste kiss to Alfred's lips before pulling back far enough to meet his gaze. "Let's go upstairs and cuddle our boyfriend," he murmured.

"… _our boyfriend._ "

It was almost ridiculous how happy those two words made Alfred, but he couldn't stop with wide grin that spread over his features. "I'd love to."


	30. Rough Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real test of a relationship comes on the days when things are difficult and don't go as planed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: Relapse is alluded to and discussed in this chapter. Please be safe.
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked and/or subscribed to my story! I love hearing back from my readers, it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 30: Rough Waters

 

 

Alfred sighed and stretched, reveling in the heat enveloping him from behind. An arm tightened around his middle, pulling him back against Ivan's bare chest. It was the third morning of the summer world conference and he was grateful beyond words that they'd all agreed to share a hotel room. Waking up together with Matthew, Ivan, or both of them was becoming more and more common, but it still felt like a treat.

Speaking of Matthew…Alfred stretched his arms out through the soft cotton of the hotel sheets, whining in protest when he found they were empty. Warm, but empty. A familiar chuckle tempted Alfred to _finally_ open his eyes. He found Matthew standing at the edge of the bed, nothing but a towel draped over his slim hips.

Well, if _that_ wasn't an invitation, Alfred didn't know what was.

He squirmed forward gently, dragging Ivan with him since the larger man wouldn't let go, and angled his head up for a kiss. Matthew, smiling, leaned down to oblige him. As soon as Matthew was in reach, Alfred snatched him up in his arms, pulling Matthew off his feet and onto the bed with him and Ivan.

Matthew let out a small cry that was a mix of surprise and indignation before breaking out in a helpless fit as laughter. "Guys! We have meetings to get to!" Matthew protested, wriggling and thrashing in feigned attempts to get away. He had no hope of escape, because now Ivan had joined Alfred in his efforts to keep Matthew pined to the bed.

"Since when are you a morning person, Mattie?" Alfred murmured, pressing his lips to the side of Matthew's neck and sucking softly to make him gasp.

"I-I needed a shower!" Matthew protested. "I needed a little time to think before the day started."

"A little time to yourself never hurt anyone," Ivan agreed, capturing Matthew's lips in a heated kiss.

Matthew's struggles weakened, and his hands focused more on grasping and caressing his lovers than escaping. He pulled back from Ivan's lips only to turn his head and seek out Alfred, who was already waiting for him. When Alfred pulled back Matthew looked dazed, relaxed, and happy. Alfred wanted to kiss him again; God, he was _beautiful_.

"I can't stay," Matthew breathed regretfully.

Alfred was so, _so_ tempted to lean back in, to steal a kiss and rile Matthew up even further. Matthew probably would have let him…but he didn't try. He knew how much doing a good job for his people mattered to Matthew. It would be disrespectful to seduce him away from his obligations, especially when Alfred himself was trying to improve his own work performance.

With a reluctant sigh and one last lingering caress to the side of Matthew's cheek, Alfred let him up. Ivan pulled back at the same moment, leaving Matthew free to stand and walk to the dresser. The towel that had been wrapped around his waist had not survived their roughhousing, and it fell from Matthew's hips almost as soon as his feet touched the floor. Beside him Ivan sighed appreciatively and Alfred turned towards him with a wicked grin. "I know, right?"

A pillow, one of the spares that had been left for them in the top shelf of the hotel closet, soared through the air landing squarely and uselessly in the narrow space between Ivan and Alfred. "Focus guys," Matthew called over his shoulder, trying to look innocent. "You're meetings aren't starting as early, but we _are_ having breakfast together."

"Yes, Mattie."

"Yes, Matvey."

Ivan and Alfred had spoken in the same moment. They turned towards each other for a quick, almost chaste kiss before pushing up off the mattress and getting ready to greet the day."

When they left their hotel room twenty minutes later, hand in hand in hand, Alfred was still grinning. World conference or not, today was going to be a _good_ day.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Alfred's feet beat out a frantic rhythm that the carpet of the hotel did little to muffle. He turned, skirted around some of the hotel's human guests, and kept going. He had to get back to the room, **_now_**.

Another corner, not a group of tourists this time, but a housekeeper and a cart of fresh toiletries, sheets, and towels. He'd turned the corner too tightly this time; a collision was inevitable. Alfred dodged and twisted as well as he was able, contorting his body into an unnatural shape as his ribs collided soundly with the corner of the cart. It was a forceful impact. The cart lurched, nudging the housekeeper's hip. Alfred's feet scrambled under him, and his hands reached for the cart. He managed to avoid overturning the cart, but only because his momentum carried his back into the wall, and he tugged the cart with him.

The housekeeper straightened, eyes wide, and reached for the two way radio at her hip. Alfred released the cart immediately, sliding to the floor without its support, and lifting his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry!" he panted. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be running in the halls. I wasn't looking where I was going!"

The housekeeper's hand hesitated above the two way radio and her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I'm really sorry," Alfred repeated, easing himself back onto his feet. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"Alfred?"

The housekeeper turned, and Alfred's head snapped toward Ivan's voice like it had been a gunshot despite the fact that Ivan had spoken softly.

Ivan was frowning, and took a few steps out of their hotel room towards Alfred. "What happened? Are you—?"

He never got the chance to finish. The moment the doorway was clear Alfred surged forward and past him, bolting into the room, not even bothering to close the door.

Ivan frowned after him for a few moments before turning back to the housekeeper with his go-to diplomatic smile. "I'm sorry for the disturbance. Alfred isn't feeling well. Are you alright?"

The housekeeper blinked mutely; she seemed almost frozen for a few moments. Then, slowly, she shifted, looked about, and seemed to come back to herself. "I'm okay."

"Do you need any help setting things right?" Ivan asked, gesturing to the few towels and tiny toiletry bottles that had spilled to the ground. The young woman followed his gaze, then shook her head. "I'll be fine. Accidents happen."

Ivan nodded and smiled at her again. "Thank you for your understanding miss. I hope you have a good day."

He was relieved to see the ghost of a smile pass her lips as she said, "Thank you. I hope you have a good day too, sir."

Ivan nodded once more before turning and heading back into the room, making sure to close the door behind him. His heart was pounding in his chest. He didn't know what exactly had happened, but his had to be bad. Alfred had barely been beside him for a second, but even that was enough time for Ivan to detect that he reeked of _alcohol_.

Their hotel room was much the same as he had left it a moment ago, the only difference being Alfred's haphazardly torn off clothing littering the carpet outside of the bathroom. Ivan bent to retrieve the clothing, wrinkling his nose at the intense smell of alcohol. Alfred's shirt was wet, _soaked_ in some kind of cheap beer. Upon closer inspection Ivan realized that _torn_ was not just an expression in this case. Alfred's shirt and trousers were actually _ripped_ , and each had several buttons missing.

Ivan could hear the shower running full force and decided to let Alfred have a few minutes to himself. They would definitely need to talk about what happened and why, but a few minutes to calm down would be good for both of them.

Carefully, methodically, Ivan picked up every scrap of Alfred's clothing and shoved them in a plastic bag. Ivan tied the bag closed, then placed that bag in another bag, and tied the second bag closed as well. He turned up the air conditioner, opened the windows, and called the front desk to request laundry service. The hotel staff was prompt; ten minutes later there was a discrete knock at the door. A smile, a few words, a tip, and all evidence of Alfred's alcohol soaked clothing was gone. Even the smell had dissipated.

The shower was still going. Ivan closed the windows, turned the air conditioning back down, sat down in the desk chair the hotel room provided, and focused on taking deep breaths.

Ten minutes later, the shower was still going.

Ivan frowned, an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. A twenty plus minute shower wasn't so unusual in general, but it was for Alfred. He was so active, always moving or fidgeting. A _ten_ minute shower was a long shower for him.

Standing, Ivan padded across the carpet and wrapped his knuckles lightly against the bathroom door. "Alfred?"

No response.

Ivan knocked again, slightly louder this time. "Alfred?"

No response.

The knot of apprehension tightened in Ivan's stomach. He raised his voice enough to be sure he would be heard over the shower, but tried to keep his tone calm. He didn't want Alfred to think he was yelling at him. That wouldn't do either of them any good. "Alfred, I'm coming in."

He opened the door and was immediately accosted with a wall of steam. The room was so thick with it that it was hard to breathe. He could barely see Alfred huddled on the floor of the shower stall; his legs were drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around them. The scalding water beat down on Alfred's skin and hair without mercy, though he hardly seemed to feel it. He was staring straight ahead of his with an empty, haunted expression.

"Alfred, I'm going to turn off the shower." Ivan kept his voice calm and even. He reached for the shower handle and slowly turned it. He let the water sit at a cool temperature for a count of thirty before turning it off the rest of the way, then he crouched down in front of Alfred.

Alfred turned his head away, and wouldn't meet Ivan's eyes. This was at once concerning and relieving. Concerning because it bespoke his awareness of the seriousness of the conversation they were about to have. Relieving because it was the first response of any kind that Ivan had been able to get out of him.

Ivan reached out and gently laid his hand on Alfred's shoulder, jumping when Alfred flinched at the contact. Alfred's skin was a vivid pink and warm to the touch where the water had beaten against him. "Are you burned?" Ivan asked softly.

No response.

Ivan bit back a sigh of frustration and shuffled forward, reaching out both his hands to cup Alfred's face, and turn it so they were eye to eye. Alfred's eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and he resisted the movements of Ivan's hands, but not enough to actually pull away.

"Alfred, we are going to talk about this, but first I need to know if you're injured." Ivan kept his voice low, but firm. "If you're burned you need to get the burns treated. I'm going to ask you one more time, and if you don't answer me, I'm going to call an ambulance for you."

Alfred's head jerked in his hands, finally pulling away. Alfred tucked his head against his own shoulder and sniffled loudly. "'m not burned."

"Are you sure?" Ivan probed.

Alfred hesitated, the frowned. "I don't think so. Hard to tell…" His voice was so quiet that Ivan had to lean in even closer, his ear almost brushing Alfred's lips. "Can't really feel much of anything right now," Alfred gasped, then dissolved into trembling, miserable sobbing. The soft fabric of Ivan's shirt brushed against Alfred's overheated skin as Ivan slid his arms around him and pulled him close.

Alfred stiffened at first and started to struggle. "No, Ivan. You'll get your clothes all wet."

"My clothes are not important," Ivan said in that same soft, calm voice. " _You_ are."

Alfred slumped against Ivan's chest, sobbing in earnest now, and Ivan just held him. "I'm right here, Alfred," he murmured. "I've got you, and I'm not running away."

"But… but…" Alfred gasped, struggling to form words.

"All I know right now," Ivan continued, "Is that you are very upset and your clothes smelled of alcohol. I need to know why, but I can wait for you to calm down first." Ivan trailed his fingers lightly down Alfred's spine, gratified to feel a shiver run through him.

"You don't have to be here," Alfred insisted, tightening his arms around Ivan's shoulders despite his words.

"The bathroom is not the best place for talking, I agree," Ivan began, being willfully oblivious to the meaning of Alfred's words. "It echoes, and you will probably be getting cold soon, now that the water is off. There are some towels on the shelf here." Ivan reached up and, thanks to his long arms, was just barely able to grasp the edge of one and pull it down. He settled it lightly over Alfred's shoulders, rubbing his back gently for support and to help dry him. "Would you like to sit on the bed or the sofa?"

Alfred nodded, his head pressed firmly against Ivan's shoulder. Slowly, painfully, he stood. Ivan stood beside him, keeping one arm wrapped firmly around Alfred's shoulders for support. They moved together out of the bathroom and across the carpet. Ivan _wanted_ to settle Alfred into the bed, but without any input from Alfred as to specifics he opted for the sofa instead. He didn't want Alfred to feel trapped.

Ivan leaned over towards the bed and pulled the duvet away from the rest of the sheets, wrapping it around Alfred so he wouldn't catch a chill.

Alfred's lips quirked up in the barest hint of a smile. "You really are a mother hen," he murmured, but clutched the fabric gratefully around him.

"I am," Ivan agreed unrepentantly. "Stay here for a moment." Ivan returned to the bathroom just long enough to secure a class of cool water, then he returned to Alfred's side. "Drink," he commanded, pressing the glass into Alfred's hands

Alfred stiffened, flinching away from the glass. "I'm _not_ drunk, Ivan, I swear!"

"You still need water," Ivan's voice was low and soothing as he settled himself next to Alfred. "You're upset, you've been running. Drink, please."

Alfred looked pleadingly at Ivan, willing him to believe what he was saying.

"Drink," Ivan repeated, settling his hand on Alfred's knee and rubbing it through the comforter in what he hoped was a comforting touch. "We can talk when you're ready." He wasn't quite as calm as he appeared to be, but he struggled to maintain his composure for Alfred's sake as well as his own. Jumping to conclusions had never helped anyone.

With several more searching and pleading glances Alfred brought the glass to his lips and drank. His fingers trembled and Ivan reached out to steady his hand when the glass was empty. Ivan took the glass, set it on the nearby coffee table, and then returned his attention to Alfred.

Alfred had drawn the comforter tightly around him, huddling underneath it in abject misery. Ivan shifted so that he was facing Alfred more directly and reached out his hands, palm up. Alfred glanced up at him, and Ivan nodded gesturing with his hands for Alfred to take them. Alfred's eyes flickered uncertainly between Ivan's eyes and his hands. Ivan remained still, hands outstretched. He was offering comfort, but he wouldn't force it.

Slowly, hesitantly, Alfred reached forward and slid his hands over Ivan's, palm to palm, fingers curled around each other's wrists. Alfred tensed, almost holding his breath, and waited….

But there was only silence.

Daring to glance up again, Alfred found Ivan waiting for him with the same patient, gentle expression he'd been wearing since he'd first seen Alfred in the floor of the shower.

"Aren't you going to interrogate me?"

Ivan shook his head. "I don't want to interrogate you. I want to know what happened, what's wrong, and if I can help." Alfred looked away uncomfortable with the gentleness in front of him, but grateful for it. "I don't have any more meetings today, and if I did I would cancel them. I said I would wait for you to calm down, and I meant it."

Alfred nodded, feeling his eyes burn and his breath catch in his throat. Ivan squeezed his hands again and waited in calm, comforting silence.

"It was so stupid…" Alfred's voice was low and cracked, barely above a whisper.

Ivan shuffled closer, leaning forward until his forehead pressed lightly against Alfred's. "If it has you this upset, it isn't stupid."

Alfred chuckled darkly, leaning into Ivan. "I was having a meeting over lunch with some of the human politicians who are attending the conference. They were both drinking, which normally doesn't bother me, but Steve, one of the humans, was drinking beer after beer…" Alfred swallowed hard. "It was like some sort of dark mirror. I couldn't help but think about how that had been me… I know I have a year and a half sober, but compared to even a normal human lifespan, that's nothing. "

Ivan rubbed his thumbs lightly over the backs of Alfred's hands. "It is time you fought very hard for. There may be easy days, but it is still a difficult battle."

Alfred sighed, his shoulders sagging a bit more as some of the tension drained out of him. "I thought you'd say something like that."

"It's the truth," Ivan assured him.

Alfred shifted, pressing closer, and Ivan spread his legs to make room for Alfred to sit between them. Alfred leaned forward until his head rested against Ivan's shoulder, and Ivan moved his arms around Alfred, holding him in place.

"I'd already decided to come back here, afterwards," Alfred began again, his voice still quiet, but less strained. "I was holding onto that idea and counting down the minutes until I could leave… Stupid! I should have gotten up and left as soon as I felt uncomfortable, my sponsor's always telling me that."

"It's an easy thing to think about, and difficult to do in practice," Ivan replied, rubbing his hands gently up and down Alfred's back.

"Yeah…" Alfred sighed. "When we were all standing up to leave Steve tripped and spilled most of his _sixth_ beer on me. I think he was going to chug it or something. I don't know… When the _smell_ hit me, I panicked. I felt like the alcohol would get in through my skin or something. I know it can't but…" Alfred trailed off, his hands reached out and clutched the front of Ivan's shirt.

"Part of you wanted it to?" Ivan guessed.

Alfred squeezed his eyes shut tight and nodded furiously. "It was only for a second but I felt _sick_."

Ivan nodded, pulling Alfred closer. "I know the feeling."

Alfred scoffed, his voice bitter. "Yeah, _years_ ago maybe."

"Nyet," Ivan protested. "Not so long ago."

Alfred leaned back and peered at Ivan dubiously.

"I hadn't had a drink in years by the time Matthew and I became close, but I _had_ avoided looking at my issues completely. It was easier to hate myself, to demonize my actions and tell myself it was better to be alone."

"Mattie was stuborn, huh?" Alfred asked, sniffling and reaching discreetly for a tissue.

"Not in the way you would expect," Ivan continued, "He offered friendship, but not unconditional friendship. When I bristled, he withdrew. When I lost my temper, he made it clear he wouldn't tolerate being treated badly. I never intended to be cruel, but he helped me understand how much work I still had to do, despite the amount of clean time I had. His own boundaries and confidence reflected my own isolation. If I had let myself, it would have been easy to backslide."

"But you didn't," Alfred murmured.

Ivan smiled and pressed a chaste kiss into Alfred's temple. "No, and _that_ is what matters, Alfred. You were triggered, but you chose to run towards safety, not away from it."

"I don't think barreling into that housekeeper was my finest move," Alfred grumbled.

Ivan shrugged. "I think you'll both live."

A smile passed over Alfred's features, but it was fleeting. "God, if I hadn't come here… I could have lost you and Mattie."

Ivan pulled back lightly, moving his hands so that he was cradling Alfred' face, staring earnestly into his eyes. "Life and relationships are complicated. I have no intention of abandoning you at the first sign of trouble. I don't think Matvey does either. That wouldn't be much of a commitment."

"But—"

"We love you, Alfred," Ivan murmured. "That doesn't mean we would put up with anything, but we're not about to abandon you."

Alfred stilled and blinked mutely up at Ivan, a dark blush staining his cheeks. Heat encroached on him from all sides as Ivan's arms tightened around him.

"I meant what I said, Alfred," Ivan murmured. Feathery bangs tickled the skin of Alfred's forehead as Ivan leaned into him. "I love you."

Darkness followed the warmth of Ivan's embrace as Alfred closed his eyes and leaned into him, touched and grateful beyond words. There, on that hotel sofa, cocooned by the comforter and Ivan's arms, he felt the safety he'd been running towards. "I love you, too. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Ivan murmured. His breath tickled against Alfred's ear and along his neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Alfred lifted his head, pressing his lips against Ivan's in a slow, forceful kiss. Cool air seeped in around the edges of the blanket as Ivan's fingers slipped beneath it, caressing Alfred's bare skin. Alfred shifted, squirming onto Ivan's lap, letting the duvet pool around his hips.

Ivan's hands gripped Alfred firmly, pulling him against Ivan's chest in a manner that was almost possessive. Their friendly rivalry had made itself known during intimate moments before, but now Alfred felt no desire to rebel against the confinement of Ivan's arms. Instead he welcomed the embrace, reveling in the solid, grounding reminder of Ivan's presence.

Their kiss turned quickly from gentle to _hungry_. Alfred wound his arms tightly around Ivan's shoulders, his fingers anchoring in Ivan's hair, holding Ivan to him. Ivan's teeth brushed against the tender flesh of Alfred's lips, followed shortly by the demanding push of his tongue.

Alfred arched into Ivan's hands, moaning softly when he felt the scratch of nails against his skin. Ivan's fingers trailed low, pushing the last of the duvet from Alfred's legs, cupping the firm flesh of his thighs, and guiding them around his waist.

Ivan stood, his hands holding Alfred's hips in a forceful, almost bruising grip as he moved across the room. Alfred gasped into Ivan's mouth, tightening his arms and legs as he felt the tug of gravity pulling him down. The world tilted, and he found himself deposited on the soft, crumpled sheets of their bed. Ivan crawled over him, insinuating himself between Alfred's legs with startling intensity.

Alfred reached up and cupped Ivan's face, pulling him closer. "Don't be gentle," he murmured. "I want to feel you."

Ivan nodded, leaned forward, and pressed a short sharp kiss to Alfred's lips. "Stop me if I hurt you," he commanded.

"I will," Alfred promised, chasing Ivan's mouth with his own.

Ivan pressed Alfred into the mattress, stealing the breath from his lungs with biting kisses to his lips and neck. Alfred rocked up into him, feeling himself stiffen against the rough fabric of Ivan's trousers. He moved his hands to the buttons of Ivan's shirt. He had intended to undo them, but Ivan's hands caught his wrists and pinned them to the bed above his head. Ivan let out a sound that was almost a _growl_ as he rocked into Alfred, swallowing his gasps and moans with desperate kisses.

" _Stay here_." It was another command, murmured against the hot, swollen flesh of Alfred's lips before cool air rushed in to replace the intense heat of Ivan's skin against his.

Alfred lifted his head, blinking at the broad expanse of Ivan's back. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching for the drawer of the bedside table. A wicked, devious smile curled on the edges of Alfred's lips. He'd been told to _stay_ , but he wasn't feeling particularly obedient at the moment. He pushed himself to his knees and leaned over Ivan's back, draping his arms over those broad shoulders.

"I told you to stay," Ivan replied softly, lifting the lube from the drawer.

Alfred hummed softly, his teeth grazing the hard cartilage of Ivan's ear while his hands quested again to divest Ivan of his shirt. "You did," he agreed, his voice low and husky.

"You are not listening," Ivan observed, tilting his head back so that he could catch the mischievous glint in Alfred's eyes.

"Nope," Alfred confirmed, his lips smacking together as he emphasized the 'p' sound in the word.

Alfred caught the barest flash of a wolfish smile before the world twisted and he found himself forcibly turned around, supporting himself on knees and elbows as Ivan crawled over him once more. Fabric brushed lightly against Alfred, followed by the heat of naked skin, and a shiver rippled along his spine.

"Better," Ivan murmured, pressing a sucking kiss into the back of Alfred's neck.

Alfred sighed and pressed back into Ivan, feeling the stiff evidence of his arousal.

Ivan's teeth followed his lips, grazing along Alfred's spine and the curve of his neck. He bit down softly, making Alfred gasp and tremble beneath him. Fingers closed firmly around Alfred's erection with no teasing or warning. Alfred grunted, pushing reflexively into Ivan's hand, then back into his hips. A rumble started deep in Ivan's chest, reverberating against Alfred's back as Ivan's fingers moved over Alfred's heated flesh.

Alfred leaned down, pressing his forehead into cool white sheets, angling his hips back towards Ivan. The snap of the lube opening sent another shiver of anticipation along Alfred's spine. He waited, his breath caught in his chest. He felt the cool, slickness of Ivan's fingers over his erection, but nothing else. Alfred frowned, pushed himself up and started to turn his head when he felt a slippery finger push determinedly at his entrance. Alfred groaned and melted back into the sheets as Ivan opened him up. First one finger, then two; Alfred's breath came quickly and his head spun when he felt Ivan moving three fingers inside him.

Ivan's fingers pressed in sharply, nudging a tight bundle of nerves inside Alfred that had him crying out in pleasure. The fingers eased back. Alfred expected them to push inside him again, but they continued their slow retreat, leaving him feeling empty and longing. The lube snapped open again and every moment Alfred expected the return of Ivan's fingers. He started when something bigger and blunter nudged at his entrance. "Wait."

Ivan stilled instantly, giving Alfred time to push himself up and turn onto his back. He was flushed, panting and shaking from arousal. To Ivan's eyes he was _beautiful_.

"I want to _see_ you too," Alfred murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ivan nodded and leaned forward to steal a sweet kiss from Alfred's swollen lips. His hands slid over Alfred's thighs, pushing them up and apart as he repositioned himself. Ivan still wasn't _gentle_ , but there was tenderness in Ivan's movements that tugged at Alfred's heart. He gasped against Ivan's lips as he felt the older man push inside him.

Ivan moaned softly as he bottomed out, pressing his hips insistently against Alfred's as though he could still continue forward. He'd thrown Alfred's legs over his shoulders and he could feel the fine hairs on Alfred's calves tickling his neck as he rocked into him.

"I-Ivan!" Alfred gasped, wriggling against him ineffectually. "Move!"

Ivan did, pulling back then slamming sharply into Alfred, who threw his head back and let out a loud, wordless cry.

"Any pain?" Ivan gasped, stilling inside Alfred.

Alfred shook his head, his breath coming in frantic pants. "No, no God, no," Alfred mumbled, squirming against Ivan again.

Ivan turned his head and pressed a kiss into the skin of Alfred's calf before thrusting in again. The sheets chafed against Alfred's skin, and it was only Ivan's iron grip on his legs that kept Alfred from sliding backwards over the fabric. Alfred gasped and wriggled, impatient for Ivan to continue. Ivan drew back slowly, then snapped his hips forward with tremendous force, pulling another cry of pleasure from Alfred's lips.

Alfred shifted, gasped, and moaned. His fingers bit into the skin of Ivan's arms, but he could not convince Ivan to speed up. Ivan continued relentless and slow until Alfred had dissolved into a mess of half formed pleas and cries, his head lolling senselessly on the sheets.

Ivan leaned down, pressing Alfred almost in half to steal a kiss from his open, gasping lips. He tried to pull back, certain that Alfred wouldn't be able to breathe properly, only to have Alfred's trembling fingers clutch at his face, trying to keep him there a few more moments.

Ivan's hips snapped forward, pounding more insistently into Alfred's yielding body, swallowing Alfred's gasps and moans with sloppy, openmouthed kisses. Alfred was loud. If anyone was in the surrounding rooms they were bound to hear, and Ivan didn't care. He reached down, curled his fingers around Alfred's leaking member, and pulled a needy whine from Alfred's lips.

"Ivan!" Alfred gasped, his hands scrabbling for purchase in the sheets beneath him.

"Al-fred," Ivan murmured, losing himself in a desperate rhythm until Alfred's body bowed, taunt and shaking underneath him, spilling thick white sperm across his own stomach and Ivan's hand.

Ivan grunted, slumping against Alfred as his twitching inner muscles pulled Ivan's release from him.  They panted into each other's shoulders, both shaking with exertion as Alfred's legs slid slowly over Ivan's shoulders and down to his waist.

Alfred winced as circulation began to return to his abused limbs.

"Alright?" Ivan asked, his breath still coming in soft pants.

"Yes," Alfred breathed, his arms holding Ivan close. "Very good."

Ivan hummed in agreement, and leaned down for a languid, messy kiss. When he tried to pull back Alfred's grip tightened, and he winced softly in protest. Ivan smiled. "Alfred, if I don't get something to clean us with, we'll be stuck together."

"Fine by me," Alfred murmured, his lips brushing Ivan's as he spoke, they were still so close.

Ivan chuckled softly, and pressed a short, sweet kiss against Alfred's lips before pulling back in earnest. "Stay here," he murmured, pressing his palm gently into Alfred's chest to emphasize his words. "Listen this time. I'll be right back."

Alfred nodded, smiling up at Ivan affectionately.

Ivan eased back off the bed, moving stiff-legged to the bathroom. He took a small towel from the shelf, wet it thoroughly under the warm tap from the sink, squeezed out just enough water so that it wouldn't drip, and made his way back to Alfred, who seemed to be waiting patiently for once.

They were both spent, but it was an intense, almost sensual experience as Ivan cleaned both Alfred, then himself. He turned towards the bathroom, intending to rinse the soiled towel and put it away for cleaning, when Alfred caught his wrist and held him back. "Stay, please," Alfred murmured.

Ivan was a neat person as a rule, but he couldn't disregard the open, affectionate expression on Alfred's face. With a small amount of reluctance he let the towel fall from his fingers to the floor and allowed Alfred to pull him back onto the bed. Alfred sighed and wrapped his limbs around Ivan, snuggling into his side as they settled back into the sheets, pulling the duvet back onto the bed and around them. Ivan wrapped one arm tightly around Alfred's waist, holding him to his side. One of Alfred's hands splayed open over Ivan's chest, and Ivan reached for it, intertwining their fingers.

"What did you do with my clothes?" Alfred mumbled sleepily, turning his head into Ivan's shoulder to stifle a yawn.

"I sent them to be cleaned. The hotel offers a laundry service."

Alfred nodded slowly. His lashes fluttered against Ivan's skin as he closed his eyes; the sensation tickled. "Thank you."

Ivan pressed a chaste kiss into the crown of Alfred's head, enjoying the solid weight against him. The day had offered a temporary, but powerful unease; he was glad it was over now. "You're welcome."

 

~*~*~*~

 

It was late in the evening when Matthew returned from his last meeting of the day. He walked into their shared hotel room with an apology on his lips, but he stopped short when he realized the lights were out. Matthew frowned in the darkness and reached for the light switch. He blinked and squinted in the sudden light that followed. He'd only flicked on the light above him in the short entranceway; the majority of the room was still cast in shadows.

"Hello?" Matthew shuffled forward, peering around the corner at the king sized bed that dominated the room. He smiled when he spied two figures twined around each other under the sheets. Tiptoeing forward, Matthew approached the bed, gazing fondly down on his two lovers.

Ivan shifted under the sheets, drawing in a deep breath, and started to blink open his eyes. "Hey," he murmured.

"Hey," Matthew replied, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and reaching for their joined hands. "How are you?"

"Hm. Well rested," Ivan replied, glancing down at Alfred, who was also beginning to stir.

"Mattie?"

"I'm here," Matthew assured him, toeing off his shoes and sliding up onto the bed beside them. "I'm sorry I couldn't join you for a nap. How was your day?"

It was a question directed at both of them, and their simultaneous response left Matthew both concerned and confused. Ivan frowned, and Alfred pressed his face into Ivan's chest with a small groan.

"Alfred had a difficult day," Ivan explained, rubbing his hand up and down over the bare skin of Alfred's back.

"Yeah," Alfred confessed with a sigh, lifting his head to look at Matthew, then at Ivan. "It got better though."

"What happened?" Matthew asked, sliding his arms more determinedly around both of them. After a moment's hesitation, Alfred began to explain. Ivan interjected a few details he felt where important, as well as his own thoughts, while Matthew listened in patient silence. When they had finished he leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to first Alfred, then Ivan's lips. "I'm glad you're both okay." He bent a second time, kissing Alfred's forehead by the edge of his bangs. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here."

"It's not your job, Mattie," Alfred protested.

"Yes it is," Matthew insisted, shifting his fingers through Alfred's short hair. "That's part of being in a relationship; being there for each other."

A reluctant smile crept over Alfred's lips. "I-I would have called you if Ivan hadn't been here. Probably my sponsor too."

Matthew nodded. "I hope so. Anytime you need me, Al, I'll be there. Don't ever be afraid to call."

Alfred shifted closer, lying directly on top of Ivan as he pressed himself into Matthew. They huddled there for a moment, enjoying the closeness and the silence. Then Matthew lifted his head, sitting up slightly so he could see Alfred and Ivan properly. "How do you both feel about room service? I got out of my last meeting a bit late, and I want to spend the rest of my day alone with you both."

"I have no objections," Ivan murmured.

"Sounds good to me," Alfred agreed. "Only you have to finish dinner before you touch desert."

Matthew lifted his eyebrows in amused surprised. "Oh? And what will you do if I don't?"

Alfred didn't miss a beat. "Ivan and I will be forced to eat dessert for you… _off_ you."

Matthew chuckled softly, pulling Alfred up for a brief, energetic kiss. "If you insist."


	31. The Heart Speaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you can't forget the past, but you can learn to look to the future instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the next installment of Make or Break! ^_^ Whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story! I love hearing back from my readers; it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 31: The Heart Speaks

 

 

Alfred hummed softly to himself as he pulled warm sheets out of the dryer. It was late summer, almost fall, and he and Ivan had just converged on Matthew and his home in Ottawa for a few weeks of vacation. It was strange to think how much had changed in the last year, the last eight months in particular.

Eight months…

They had all been… well 'a couple' wasn't exactly the right description, was it? But they'd been together, romantically, for the past eight months… Alfred stretched his arms taunt, carefully folding the sheets into neat squares, grinning like an idiot. He had so much to be grateful for, it didn't seem real.

Alfred drew out the next sheet, carefully folding it between his fingers. He wouldn't have believed it two years ago, but now he was even grateful for folding the laundry. It felt good to be responsible, to be someone Matthew and Ivan could rely on for things big and small.

The dryer door closed with a snap. Since Alfred had emptied the lint before pulling out the first sheet, there was nothing left to do but lift the basket and carry it up two flights of stairs to Matthew's bedroom.

Along the way he passed Ivan, who was chopping ingredients for tonight's dinner, but paused long enough to distract Alfred with a kiss. Ivan had chosen a crock pot recipe for tonight, so he'd made a point of getting started with dinner prep just after he finished cleaning their lunch dishes.

"Love you, Mattie!" Alfred called down the hall to Matthew, who was wrapping up his last little bit of work so that he could focus entirely on Ivan and Alfred for the next two weeks.

"Love you too, Al! Love you, both!"

Alfred could hear the smile in Matthew's voice and he beamed at Ivan. "Love you."

"I love you too, Alfred," Ivan replied, bending down for one last kiss before giving him a little pinch on the ass and a nudge towards the stairs.

Alfred chuckled to himself all the way up the stairs.

The closet was right beside the stairs, so he set the basket down and opened the closet door wide, leaning up on the balls of his feet to reach the upper shelf where the bed sheets were stored. He was bending down to retrieve the next bundle of sheets when a splash of bright white caught his eye. Squinting into the semi gloom of the closet, Alfred leaned over and reached into the far corner to see what it was. He pushed back layers of clothes and several small containers before his fingers closed around the hard edge of a cardboard box, and he dragged it closer, pulling it out into the light. The entire package was white. There was a window of clear plastic on the front of the box which displayed the ornate white fabric inside.

It was a wedding dress…

Carefully, Alfred undid the flaps that held the box closed, exposing the dress to the light. It was _beautiful_. The bodice had delicate appliqués of lace with small pearls and crystals sewn in. Alfred lifted the dress from the box, standing as he did so. The skirt was full, without being comically so, and made of layers of feathery lace. Alfred didn't really spend a lot of time thinking about dresses, even his female persona, Amelia, wore mostly jeans and a t-shirt, but he couldn't deny that the wedding gown he held in his hands was _stunning_.

"Alfred, Ivan wants to know…" Matthew's voice trailed off as he mounted the stairs. His eyes met Alfred's, and they both flushed with embarrassment.

"Sorry," Alfred sputtered, holding the wedding dress away from him by the delicate cap sleeves. "I was just putting the laundry away when I saw this box. I shouldn't have opened it, sorry."

"It's fine," Matthew insisted, fighting the urge to look away. He didn't want to give Alfred any ideas. "When I stayed with Francis after we first separated, he took me to try on wedding dresses. Crazy idea, I know, but he's a hopeless romantic. He didn't get to come shopping with me when we were married, and he went on and on about how he didn't want me to give up on love… Anyway, he convinced me, and two months later he actually _sent_ one of the dresses I tried on. I appreciated the gesture, but it still felt ridiculous, so I shoved the box in the closet. I haven't seen it in almost two years; I'd forgotten all about it." Matthew's mouth snapped shut and he shifted in place, feeling awkward about rambling.

Alfred blinked at him mutely, then glanced back down at the dress in his hands with a soft, "Oh…" Guilt twisted deep in Alfred's stomach. He hated the memory of what he'd done to hurt Matthew. He'd done his best to make amends, but he still met with reminders like this from time to time. For a moment he'd thought this had been _the_ wedding dress that Matthew wore for their wedding; he hadn't even realized it was different…

"Matvey? What did he say?"

They both turned towards Ivan's voice. Matthew's mouth opened and closed, but no coherent sounds emitted from it, just a frustrated creaking. Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Ivan's head came into view. "Alfred, do you want beef or…" He paused, mouth open and his gaze locked on the delicate white fabric in Alfred's hands. "…Is that a wedding dress?"

Alfred flinched, taking half a step back. He might have retreated further, but he could feel the curved edges of Matthew's hangers pressing into his shoulder blades. "I found it. I shouldn't have been snooping. I didn't mean to. Sorry."

Ivan frowned and turned to Matthew, who had lost all ability to make eye contact. "It was a gift from Francis after Alfred and I split," he ground out. "It was silly, frivolous, but he meant well, so I kept it."

The tension in the air was palpable, but Ivan seemed unfazed by it. He continued the last few steps up and into the bedroom. "It's a beautiful dress," he observed calmly.

"I know right?" Alfred added, perking up slightly. "Francis has amazing taste, Mattie. Or did you pick the dress?"

"I didn't think Francis would actually _buy_ it," Matthew grumbled.

Alfred frowned, but Ivan remained unperturbed. "It must look very good on you."

Matthew crossed his arms in front of his chest. His silence was belied by the barest twitch of his lips into a smile. That smile made Alfred feel brave.

"Would you…" he hesitated, and Matthew turned to look at him, his expression softer than it had been a moment before, more curious. "Would you try it on?" Alfred asked, glancing between Matthew and the dress in his hands.

Matthew's eyes widened and he took a step back, running smack into Ivan's chest. "What?"

Large warm hands settled on either side of Matthew's arms, holding him steady. "I would like to see that too, if you wouldn't mind."

Matthew glanced back of his shoulder, uncertain. "But…"

"It's just a fancy keepsake, da?" Ivan asked.

"Well…" Matthew frowned intently at the carpet, at a loss for words.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, Mattie," Alfred said softly, draping the dress over one arm so that he could settle a hand on Matthew's shoulder. "I just thought it would look great on you, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Matthew looked up, still wearing an uncertain frown. Alfred smiled reassuringly at him. "Do you want me to put it back in the closet? Or store it somewhere else?"

"It's okay," Matthew replied softly, looking down at the dress in Alfred's arms.

"It's okay where it is?" Alfred asked, half turning towards the box when a hand at his elbow brought him up short.

"I'll try it on," Matthew continued, his voice still low.

"Are you sure?" Alfred asked turning back to look at Matthew.

Matthew nodded, looking a bit more sure of himself. "Yeah. I don't mind. I need to figure out what to do with it anyway. It's rude to just stuff it in the closet forever." Matthew pulled the fabric from Alfred's hand and pushed past him, heading for the bathroom.

Alfred turned and watched him go, frowning as Matthew closed the door behind him. His palm tingled as Ivan stepped up beside him and slid their hands together, interlocking their fingers. Alfred glanced up and Ivan smiled reassuringly at him.

"Do you need any help, Matvey?" Ivan asked, turning back towards the bathroom door.

"No!" Matthew called back. "There's just a zipper in the back. I'll be fine!"

Ivan and Alfred waited quietly, listening to the faint shuffling of fabric coming from the other side of the door. The rustling died away followed by a long stretch of silence. Alfred's teeth scraped absently over his bottom lip, and he was about to ask if Matthew was okay when the handle of the bathroom door began to turn.

The door swung open and Matthew glided out over the carpet of the bedroom. Glided was the only appropriate word. Matthew had always been comfortable in women's clothing regardless of if he was in his male or female form, and that showed in his ease of movement.

Matthew's hands were clasped in front of him, and his eyes kept drifting back to the carpet, evidence of his continued embarrassment. He turned so that he was facing Ivan and Alfred directly. "I was thinking maybe I could replace the skirt with something more simple? Maybe satin or silk. It would make a good dress for formal political occasions if I needed to appear female." He lifted his hands to his chest. "I don't think the bodice could be changed to accommodate me as Madeline, but other than some generous endowments I don't look very different, so I could probably make it work." _Finally_ Matthew lifted his eyes to Ivan and Alfred. "What do you guys think?"

"Wow," Alfred breathed. His face was flushed and his eyes were almost glossy as they traced the lines of Matthew's body and the dress. "You look _amazing_."

A reluctant smile stole over Matthew's features. "Thank you." His eyes flickered to Ivan. "What do you think about pairing the bodice with a simpler skirt?" Matthew glanced down at the lace that brushed his fingers. "I can't think of anything to do with the skirt fabric… Maybe I could donate it to a craft store, or a fashion school? It was a gift, so I don't want it to go to waste." Matthew lifted his eyes and jumped when he found Ivan _much_ closer than he'd been before.

Ivan didn't speak. His hand slid up Matthews arm to his shoulder and he pressed a soft, sweet kiss to Matthew's lips. "It suits you," he murmured as he pulled back.

Matthew's smile widened, becoming more genuine. "Thank you, but that doesn't answer my question."

Ivan's eyes trailed low over the dress, then back up to Matthew's face. "I like the dress as it is."

"This is so obviously a _wedding_ dress, though," Matthew complained, holding up the fabric of his skirt in both hands. "I _can't_ wear a _wedding dress_ to a political event."

"There's no rush, is there?" Alfred' voice was quiet, almost a whisper. Ivan and Matthew turned to look at him, and he continued. "I mean you already have enough formal clothes for work, so you don't have to make any decisions about this dress _today_ , right?"

Matthew frowned slightly. "I guess not." He glanced down at the dress again. "But I've already had it for almost two years. I don't want to leave it in the closet forever; I should get some use out of it. If it hadn't been a gift from Francis I would probably just donate it to charity."

"You have time," Ivan agreed. "It wouldn't hurt to sleep on it, think about what the best plan would be."

"I guess," Matthew agreed reluctantly. "I _did_ almost forget it was here. A little more time won't hurt."

"Do… do you need any help getting out of the dress?" Alfred asked, his voice soft and hesitant.

Matthew looked up. Alfred was still flushed, and he looked as hesitant as he sounded. Matthew didn't really need help, but he said, "Sure," and turned around so that Alfred could get the zipper for him.

Heat rippled along the bare skin of Matthew's back as Alfred stepped close. Breath ghosted over his neck and shoulders like a breeze before the fabric of the bodice pulled and loosened in response to the zipper moving down his back. Alfred hadn't even touched his skin, but Matthew felt gooseflesh rise along his arms from his shoulders to the tips of his fingers. Something about the moment felt oddly intense… But that was silly. Alfred was helping him change, and then he had e-mails to finish.

Matthew glanced over his shoulder, smiling softly at Alfred, trying to reassure him. Alfred looked so flustered, but Matthew didn't blame him. Their wedding, their marriage had been a disaster, and reminders of it were bound to be painful for both of them. That was the past. They were making new memories now, and _that_ is what mattered.

"Thank you," Matthew murmured, leaning back to press a gentle kiss to Alfred's lips.

"You're welcome," Alfred breathed, his expression looking slightly pained.

Matthew nodded to Ivan, squeezing his hand as he passed, and made his way back into the bathroom. Changing out of the dress took much less time than getting into it. Matthew was back out, fully dressed and carrying the gown over one arm, a minute later.

Ivan reached out to take the dress from Matthew. "We'll put this away; go finish your e-mails."

Matthew smiled, pressed a chaste kiss to Ivan's lips, murmured his thanks, and disappeared down the steps.

Ivan turned to Alfred, who had stayed behind, and found him looking more miserable by the second. He was probably trying to hide it, but Ivan could see the tightness in the corners of his lips, and the rolled hunch of his shoulders. "How does this go back in the box?" Ivan asked, his voice soft and low.

Alfred turned, his eyes taking on a painful dull sheen. He reached for the gown, knelt, and gently folded it as he nestled it in the box, taking care to hang the bodice by its inner straps so that it was framed by the picture window on the front, just as it had been before.

The moment Alfred's hands secured the lid of the box in place, Ivan knelt down in front of him. "I can—" Alfred began, but stopped when Ivan reached for him, sliding his large warm hands across Alfred's and holding them gently. Ivan's thumbs began slow back and forth movements over the delicate skin of Alfred's wrist; his smile was soft and sympathetic.

"Talk to me."

Alfred frowned and looked down at the box, still nestled between them. He didn't _want_ to talk about it…but keeping secrets had led to some very _dark_ places that he was determined never to return to. Alfred parted his lips, moving his tongue over their dry, cracked surface. "I did this…"

Ivan had to lean over the dress box to hear Alfred properly, he'd spoken _so_ quietly. "What did you do?" Ivan asked, probing gently.

Alfred's frown deepened, and for a moment it looked like he would cry. "Mattie was _so_ excited when we were married…" Alfred's mournful eyes found Ivan's and he murmured. "I ruined this for him, didn't I?"

"You think Matvey doesn't want to talk about marriage or weddings because of his experience with you?"

Slowly, Alfred nodded. He was staring morosely at the dress box, until it began to slide sideways past him, partly into the closet. Alfred looked up as he was pulled into Ivan's arms. He was startled, but he didn't fight it, nestling his head against Ivan's shoulder.

"Matvey loves you, Alfred."

"I know." Alfred's voice was quiet and high. Tears were not far off, perhaps they had already arrived. Ivan stroked Alfred's back, doing his best to offer what comfort he could.

"I don't think you've ruined the idea of marriage for him," Ivan continued rambling on in a low, soothing tone. "He was hurt, and he will be cautious, but that's normal. He was cautious around you for months before he started to open up again. Even then I could see small reluctant smiles on his face when he got a text from you. He cared about you, but his caution was making him fight that."

"Is that when you talked to him about being in a relationship with both of us?" Alfred asked, his fingers digging into the fabric of Ivan's shirt.

Ivan nodded. "I knew it was a choice he would have to make, and at first I was scared that there was no way to avoid pain, that Matthew would eventually return to you, or _not_ return to you despite his feelings. I didn't want that."

"So you just came up with a threesome? Triad? Whatever it is we're supposed to be called?"

Ivan chuckled softly, shifting the fingers of one hand through Alfred's hair, pleased to feel him relaxing in his arms. "Not right away. I had to consider my own feelings. Once the idea occurred to me I knew it would only work if you and I were good friends at the very least, that it would probably work better if we were dating also. I only spoke to Matvey when I had decided that I could build an intimate friendship with you, and would be willing to see if we could be more. We'd been friends before, in a sense, and many of the good qualities Matvey saw in you, I admired also."

"I broke his heart," Alfred protested. Ivan could hear him sniffling.

"And he forgave you for it," Ivan replied. "I think that's what finally decided him, that night the two of you danced. I could see that he was falling back in love with you, but I think that night he finally decided to _forgive_ you, and trust you with his heart again.

Alfred's shoulders started to shake and Ivan rocked him gently in his arms. "Weddings, and anything that reminds Matvey of a wedding, probably still feel untrustworthy. That does not mean he'll feel that way forever. It's a pain he's working on letting go of, just like the pain you had to let go of in your recovery."

"And you?" Alfred asked, his voice muffled by the fabric of Ivan's shirt and the curve of his neck.

"And me," Ivan agreed. "It's never something you can perfect, just something you continue to work on."

Alfred sniffled and nodded. "I hate that I hurt him."

"You can't take it back," Ivan murmured gently. "You can only go forward from here. In case you haven't noticed, he's been very happy with you, with us, for the past eight months."

Alfred nodded, reluctantly. "Yeah…" He sighed, long and loud, and allowed himself to melt into Ivan's embrace. "You should probably get back to the food…" he grumbled.

"Nothing's cooking yet," Ivan assured him. A few more minutes won't hurt." A long but comfortable silence settled over them. Ivan felt Alfred's breathing and heart rate slow. He thought for a moment Alfred might have fallen asleep, but he felt no urge to wake him. If Alfred needed the rest, they could figure out something else for dinner.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Matthew lay nestled between his lovers, the rich smell of the food in the crock pot filling the room. He was a bit hungry, but he knew it would be another hour at least until the food was ready. Ivan had gotten a later start in prepping it than he'd intended. First he'd been delayed by the dress they'd asked Matthew to try on for them, then he and Alfred had a long talk after Matthew had returned downstairs to finish his work e-mails. Matthew had run into Ivan and Alfred as they'd come back downstairs, almost an hour later.

When Matthew had expressed his concern, Ivan explained, " _Alfred felt a bit unsteady. He doesn't like being reminded of how he hurt you. I sat with him until he felt a bit calmer_."

Matthew immediately turned to Alfred, frowning and pulling him into his arms. " _Why didn't you tell me?_ "

" _I felt guilty_ ," Alfred confessed. " _You looked so uncomfortable in the wedding dress and… I just want you to be happy, Mattie_."

" _I_ _ **am**_ _happy, Alfred_ ," Matthew assured him. " _If I wasn't I would tell you… I should also probably tell you when I'm happy_. _I don't want you to doubt yourself_."

" _I'm fine,_ " Alfred assured him.

Matthew suggested they settle on the futon sofa for a movie when he noticed Alfred showed no signs of removing himself from Matthew's arms. Alfred had readily agreed and, once the crock pot was going, Ivan joined them.

One movie had turned into two, and now they were working on a marathon of Alfred's favorite superhero movies. Matthew didn't mind. He wasn't the biggest fan of the movies, but it was good to see Alfred smiling, and it felt decadent to have Ivan and Alfred pressed so close. They'd fed Kuma fifteen minutes ago, and now he was running around outside. They had the house to themselves.

Ivan's hand, which had been resting on Matthew's thigh, started rubbing in slow, soothing circles. At the same time, Alfred's fingers trailed lightly over Matthew's neck and shoulders, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. Matthew sighed and shifted, bringing his legs up over Ivan's, and leaning back until his head rested in Alfred's lap. Neither man protested, they merely smiled and adjusted so that they could be comfortable in this new position.

Alfred's fingers began to run through Matthew's hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, while Ivan's hand moved to the hem of Matthew's jeans, dipping underneath to caress the delicate skin of Matthew's ankle. The overall affect left Matthew feeling very relaxed and a bit spoiled.

When Alfred dipped his head for a kiss, Matthew leaned up to meet him, wrapping his arms around Alfred's shoulders to steady himself. It might have been a brief kiss, but when Alfred started to pull back Matthew tightened his grip, and leaned in for more. He moaned softly when Alfred's tongue tangled with his, sparking a familiar heat low in his abdomen.

Ivan's hands strayed from Matthew's ankle, caressing further and further along the inseam of his jeans. Matthew huffed softly, his legs falling open in the face of Ivan's relentless attention. Ivan's hands slid higher, over Matthew's inner thigh, and palmed him through the fabric of his jeans.

Matthew broke his kiss with a surprised gasp. "Ivan…"

Above him Alfred smiled, and leaned forward for a sweet, chaste kiss. "You made him blush," Alfred observed, trailing his fingers over the curve of Matthew's cheek.

" _We_ made him blush," Ivan corrected, a wry smile playing on his lips. "I saw that kiss."

Now Matthew blushed in earnest, fighting the urge to hide his face against Alfred's chest. It wasn't the first time things had bordered on the sexual when they were all together, but it still felt new, having _both_ Ivan and Alfred here, touching him, and each other.

"You're both okay with this?" Matthew asked, glancing from Alfred to Ivan. They had talked, repeatedly and at length, about what they were comfortable with, but Matthew still wanted to hear from them what they were thinking and feeling. Being okay with something in general did not give anyone implicit consent.

"Fine," Alfred assured him, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of Matthew's ear. It was a touch soon followed by Alfred's tongue and the barest graze of his teeth, which made Matthew gasp.

"No complaints here," Ivan agreed, his fingers ghosting under Matthew's shirt, seeking and rubbing over his nipples

Matthew groaned softly, leaned up, and claimed another passionate kiss from Alfred's lips, his fingers curling in Alfred's short hair. A faint pressure squeezed around Matthew's waist, then released as Ivan undid the button of his jeans and pulled down the zipper. Matthew's fingers tugged the fabric of Alfred's shirt up until it bunched around his shoulders Alfred lifted his arms, allowing Matthew to push his shirt over his head and away.

Alfred paused to release the back of the futon sofa, lowering it into a soft, flat, continuous surface. The moment it was down Matthew pushed him back, pressing himself into Alfred's chest with passionate, biting kisses. He clung to Alfred as Ivan pulled his jeans and boxers over his slim hips and down his legs. Matthew and Alfred's lips and hands wandered over chests, necks, sides, nipples, and lips, never lingering too long in one place. Alfred's fingers closed around the swollen bud of Matthew's nipple, pinching and pulling the skin lightly. Matthew broke away from Alfred's neck with a groan. "Alfred!"

Alfred barely had time to smile before Matthew's lips found his again. Meanwhile, Ivan's fingers slid over Matthew's bare skin, and it heated under his touch. Matthew rocked back into his hand as Ivan's fingers worked over his rigid member. Matthew broke away from Alfred to press himself eagerly against Ivan, his tongue sliding messily against Ivan's while his fingers worked frantically to open the buttons of Ivan's shirt. Alfred followed Matthew's movement, pressing himself against Matthew's back, kissing his neck, and sliding his hands over Matthew's chest from behind.

Ivan pressed his thumb into the sensitive glands at the tip of Mathew's erection, and he jolted in their arms. Matthew broke away from Ivan with another moan, his head lolling back against Alfred's shoulder. Alfred and Ivan pressed sucking kisses to either side of Matthew's neck, working in tandem until they reached his lips. They shared a heated look, then leaned across Matthew, sharing a slow, sensual kiss of their own, while Matthew panted in their arms.

Alfred drew back with a satisfied, if slightly dazed, smile. He turned to Matthew, who was gazing at him hungrily, and lay back, pulling Matthew down on top of him. Matthew came willingly, pressing a brief but passionate kiss to his lips, then trailing lower. Alfred sucked in a breath, watching Matthew's tongue work over his nipple. The futon shifted under him and Alfred turned his head to watch Ivan settle himself between Matthew's legs, nudging him so that Matthew lay on his side.

Matthew's teeth grazed sharply over Alfred's hipbone as Ivan's breath ghosted over Matthew's erection. Alfred slid his hand out and over Ivan's thigh, reaching for the button of his trousers. Ivan smiled and intercepted Alfred's hand with his own. "I need to concentrate," he murmured, lifting Alfred's hand to press a gentle kiss to Alfred's knuckles.

Matthew hummed once in satisfaction as he opened Alfred's fly, pressing his mouth to Alfred's stiff member through the fabric of his boxers. Alfred rocked up into his mouth, but Matthew had been expecting the movement and pressed his hands against Alfred's hips to help him keep still. Warm, slippery, wetness rippled along Matthew's senses as Ivan took him into his mouth. He pulled back slightly, biting his bottom lip hard between his teeth while his fingers trembled at Alfred's waist. Ivan was probably right about needing to concentrate… but he didn't want to tell him to stop.

In quick, jerky movements, Matthew pulled Alfred's jeans and boxers down to his knees. He'd meant to strip Alfred completely, but lost his patience part way through, closing his hand around Alfred's heated member instead. Alfred moaned softly, rocking into Matthew's hand and squirming valiantly to divest himself of the rest of his clothing.

Ivan's hot, wet mouth worked over the heated skin of Matthew's cock and Matthew _moaned_ around Alfred, causing him to gasp in response. Alfred's thighs trembled as Matthew's fingers slid over the sensitive skin of his testicles, rolling them gently in his hands, before questing lower. Matthew felt Ivan's hand nudge between his legs, and parted them, canting his hips forward, towards the intrusion.

"Lube?"

Matthew and Ivan blinked, looked at each other, and chuckled softly. They had both spoken simultaneously.

"Are you asking me?" Alfred panted. "This is _your_ house, Mattie."

"Just asking for consent," Matthew replied, sneaking one hand under the futon cushions with a wry smile, retrieving a bottle of lube.

"I'm all yours," Alfred assured Matthew. He tilted his head, studying Matthew as he uncapped the bottle and poured a generous amount over Ivan's fingers, then his own. "Masturbate on the sofa much?"

The flush over Matthew's cheeks darkened and he prodded against Alfred's entrance with more force than was strictly necessary. "I like to be prepared—ah!" He rocked back into the unexpected push of Ivan's finger, relishing the stretching sensation that accompanied it.

Ivan smiled at his lovers, then dipped his head and drew Matthew's erection between his lips once more. Matthew moaned again, and the sound reverberated along the skin of Alfred's testicles, causing him to gasp and rock against Matthew. Matthew pushed and prodded, stretching Alfred wide, and savoring every gasp and cry he pulled from his lips. He wasn't as steady as he otherwise would be, but that was alright. Every time Ivan's ministrations made him jolt, his fingers moved forcefully inside Alfred, drawing out soft cries of pleasure.

Alfred's hands flailed, landing on Ivan's trousers and pulling the fabric taunt. "Mattie! Ivan!" Alfred almost wined each name, his voice high and tight and desperate. Matthew hummed around Alfred deliberately, before slowly pulling back. He turned to Ivan when he felt him do the same.

Ivan opened his mouth as though to speak, then closed it and moved up over Matthew's body until he could capture his lips in a kiss. Matthew clung to him, squirming against Ivan's body as their erections nestled against each other.

A hand moved gently over their cheeks, caressing. Ivan and Matthew broke the kiss and turned to smile at Alfred, who was looking at them with a mix of affection and arousal. Matthew was tempted to crawl over Alfred and claim his mouth as Ivan had just done to him. Instead Ivan shifted and, together, Matthew and Ivan moved their mouths over Alfred's leaking cock, sharing a broken kiss.

"Ah! W-who said you guys could gang up on me?" Alfred gasped, his fingers tightening in the fabric of Matthew's shirt.

"You like it," Matthew murmured, a wicked gleam in his eye. He shrugged out of his shirt, with some assistance from Alfred, then moved over him, seeking the kiss he'd wanted earlier. Fabric shifted, and Alfred wrapped his legs around Ivan. A snap, a zip, and more fabric moved. Ivan's trousers joined Alfred's jeans on Matthew's living room floor.

Alfred arched suddenly under Matthew, gasping into their kiss. "Ivan—ah!"

Matthew glanced back, and saw Ivan canting his hips forward into Alfred. He watched with hungry eyes as Alfred flushed and writhed under Ivan. Matthew had never really imagined having sex with more than one person at the same time, not really, but he couldn't deny that it felt _right_. Actually _seeing_ Ivan and Alfred come together was sexy as hell.

Alfred's hands sought Matthew's body and pulled him closer, alternately gasping against and kissing his skin. Matthew slid his legs over Alfred body so that he was mounting him, Alfred's leaking member pressing wantonly against him.

"Some help, Matvey?" Ivan's voice was close by his ear, low and gravely with arousal. He passed Ivan the lube, heard the soft snap of the lid, and felt a growing slickness as Ivan's hand moved along Alfred's member, then pressed against Matthew's entrance. Matthew gasped and rocked against the intrusion, groaning loudly when someone, Ivan, Alfred, or both of them together, guided Alfred _inside_ Matthew.

The skin of Ivan's chest brushed lightly against Matthew's back, almost tickling him. Matthew leaned back, turning his head towards Ivan in search of a kiss. Their tongues met in a breathless, passionate dance. Ivan rocked forward, jostling Matthew on Alfred's cock and sending ripples of pleasure through all three of them.

Matthew broke away from the kiss with a cry as Alfred's fingers closed around his member, stroking it and spreading precum over the sensitive glands at the tip. "Oh, God..." Matthew breathed, grinding himself down onto Alfred's cock.

"Call me Alfred." The wry, amused smile playing on Alfred's lips was a challenge; at least Matthew took it as one. He responded by clenching his innermost muscles as tightly as he could. Alfred gasped and rocked up into him, pulling a small whimper from Matthew's lips as he nudged his prostate.

Ivan moved, thrusting into Alfred, and Matthew rocked up and down, almost bouncing on Alfred's cock. Beneath them Alfred trembled, pushing and rocking into each of them in a clumsy, uncoordinated manner. His fingers trailed lightly over Matthew's cock, squeezing and stroking in fits and starts as Alfred fought for, but ultimately lost all coherent thought. A long, powerful arm circled Matthew's waist, pulling him back against Ivan's chest until he felt the scrape of teeth and a wet undulating tongue against his neck.

Alfred looked up at them, caught by the picture of them together, in him, and around him. Matthew's eyes fluttered open and a rare, wicked smirk worked its way over his lips. "Like what you see?" he breathed.

Alfred nodded frantically, unable to form a coherent thought beyond 'yes, yes, yes.'

"You know…. we could…switch, if you wanted," Matthew purred, drawing out each word, watching the play of desire in Alfred's features.

Fingers gripped the edges of Matthew's hips, forcing him down onto Alfred's cock with bruising strength. Matthew's mouth fell open and he gasped as Alfred's hands continued to move him.

Their movement wasn't synchronized, but it didn't have to be. They pushed, pulled, and rocked against each other. Alfred's fingernails bit into the skin at Matthew's waist as Ivan thrust into him so forcefully that Matthew almost felt Ivan was inside him too. Alfred threw his head back, crying out in pleasure, every muscle in his body trembling as it was drawn taunt. Ivan grunted softly, his hand sneaking around to tug Matthew's cock as the tremors of Alfred's climax rippled along his own. Matthew shuddered, reaching behind to clutch at Ivan as he found his own release. Ivan came, gasping and murmuring into Matthew's shoulder as he ground into the now limp Alfred.

They stilled, shaking against each other in the aftermath. Matthew was more than a little tempted to slump against Alfred, or role sideways and flop onto the futon, but he didn't want to crush Alfred and he didn't want to be that far away either. Gently, Ivan eased out of Alfred, his fingers trailing loving caresses over Alfred's thighs and Matthew's back. He shifted, laying beside Alfred and Matthew, reached out to guide Matthew onto his side so that he was sandwiched between them.

Hands trailed over chests slick with sweat and sperm, but no one seemed particularly inclined to move more than the two inches required to snuggle even closer. Mathew hummed contentedly as the weight of Ivan and Alfred's arms settled over him, their legs hopelessly intertwined.

"That," Alfred panted, "was amazing."

"It was, Matthew breathed, nuzzling into the warm skin of Alfred's shoulder, trying and failing to hide the broad smile that had taken over his features.

Ivan murmured his agreement, tightening his grip, and pulling them both just a bit closer.

Alfred's fingers trailed lazily over Ivan's arm, then down along Matthew's side. "Do you want to go again? Switch things up like you were talking about?"

Matthew let out a breathless chuckle, pressing his face insistently into Alfred's chest. "Dinner is going to be ready soon," he protested weakly.

Ivan pressed slow, sucking kisses into the back of Matthew's neck. "I can set the crock pot on a warming mode," he murmured. "Dinner will keep for a while."

"You're going to be the death of me, aren't you?" Matthew asked, voice tremulous with barely suppressed laughter.

Alfred hummed distractedly, his smile unrepentant as his hand moved boldly over Matthew's body. Matthew gasped, parting his legs reflexively as Alfred slid his hand between them. "A-Alfred!" He cried, clutching at Alfred's shoulders as he probed Matthew's leaking entrance.

"What?" Alfred replied coyly, pressing his finger easily into Matthew. Matthew moaned and rocked against him, protests dying on his lips. He was almost oversensitive, caught in a combination of pleasure and almost pain.

Ivan pressed a kiss to Matthew's shoulder, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to Alfred's lips. He shifted, pulled back and stood. Alfred's brow furrowed. "Ivan?"

"You're—ah!—leaving?" Matthew gasped looking pleadingly over his shoulder.

"I'll be right back," Ivan assured them, stroking his hands over their sides as he stood. "I'm moving the food to warming mode, just like I said. It would be a shame to waste it."

Ivan walked gingerly around the sofa, headed towards the kitchen. Matthew turned his head to follow him and was caught off guard by a kiss from Alfred. Well, it wasn't so much a kiss as a sensual _assault_. Alfred hummed softly against him, gently nibbling on Matthew's lower lips as though he was trying to taste them. Matthew huffed and parted his lips, meeting Alfred's tongue halfway. There was no struggle for dominance, just the slow wet slide of muscle against muscle.

Alfred's fingers weren't idle, they pushed into Matthew with vigor, disregarding the semen leaking out around them or the wet squelching sounds that accompanied the movement. Matthew moaned loudly, rocking back against the intrusion in earnest. They had _just_ had sex, but Matthew felt himself growing hard again under Alfred's ministrations. He was already stretched, so it wasn't long until Alfred had three fingers inside him.

Large, warm hands descended on Matthew's ass, spreading the cheeks. Matthew jumped and moaned again. Ivan was back. "See something you like, big guy?" Alfred murmured, pressing a kiss to Matthew's neck as he twisted his fingers inside him.

"Da." Ivan's voice was low and gravely again. The futon creaked as Ivan settled his weight on it, kneeling behind Matthew.

"I-ah!" Matthew cried out when he felt the burning stretch and Ivan's finger toying with his hole alongside Alfred's. He was dubious about accommodating many more fingers, but he didn't have to worry. A moment later Alfred's hand withdrew and something hotter and blunter rubbed against Matthew's quivering muscles. "Yes," Matthew panted, "Ivan please!"

Ivan thrust in sharply, much more roughly than he would have if Matthew hadn't already been lubed and stretched. Matthew cried out and thrust back against him, his fingernails biting into the skin of Alfred's shoulder. He trembled when he felt Alfred's hand sneak down between their bodies and wrap itself around their hard cocks, pressing them together in a slick, slippery heat.

Matthew was caught, bucking sharply between Alfred's hand and Ivan's sharp thrusts. He forced his eyes open and found Alfred not much better beneath him, flushed, panting, and writhing. Matthew braced himself on one hand, pushing the other between their bodies to join Alfred's. Ivan was biting his shoulder again. He'd be _covered_ in marks tomorrow, and he _didn't_ care.

Hands grasped at hands and other patches of naked skin. Mouths cried out, kissed, and sucked. Everything became tangled and blurry and _beautiful_.

This time Matthew did slump against Alfred, uncaring of the sticky slippery mess spreading over their stomachs. They were all a panting, trembling, bundle of endorphins and it had been _worth it_.

"I don't think I can move…" Alfred wheezed.

Matthew just groaned and squirmed, trying to straighten his legs in the hopes of getting some feeling back into them.

Ivan eased himself off the other two, sliding down onto the cushion of the futon sofa with a low moan. He didn't go far, laying on his side with his arm and one leg draped over Matthew and Alfred.

Matthew knew he should at least try to get up. He knew that if they didn't clean up soon they'd end up uncomfortably stuck together… but he couldn't quite muster the energy or concern necessary to move. Instead his eyes drifted shut and he focused on the feeling of long fingers running idly over his back.

A muffled scraping sounded loudly through the room followed by an even louder plea. "Coooold!"

Matthew 'eeped', flinching in Ivan and Alfred's embrace.

"Are you blushing?" Alfred queried, a lazy smile creeping over his lips.

"Of course I'm blushing!" Matthew hissed.

"Kuma doesn't care if we're dressed," Alfred continued, craning his head around to peer at the sliding glass door that currently framed a grumpy, inpatient, miniature polar bear.

"I do!" Matthew insisted, scrabbling for his pants, uncaring that he would have to launder them later.

Ivan stretched and pulled on his boxers in deference to Matthew's wishes. He stood, rounded the futon sofa, and opened the door for Kumajiro. The miniature polar bear trotted in and, with a brief shake of his fur, disappeared up the steps to Matthew's loft bedroom per his usual evening pattern.

Alfred sighed and stood, not bothering to cover himself now that Kumajiro was out of sight. "So, bath first, then dinner?"

"A shower would be better," Ivan countered, reaching forward to ruffle Alfred's hair. "If we take a bath you'll only want to sleep afterwards, and you need to eat first."

"Yes, _mom_ ," Alfred replied, sticking his tongue out for good measure.

Matthew, reluctantly, agreed that towels would be fine clothing substitutes after they were all clean. Slowly, fighting their fatigued muscles, they gathered up their clothing and set it together in a laundry basket by the stairs.

"I'll take it down and run a load of laundry after we shower," Alfred volunteered, slipping an arm around Matthew's shoulder.

"Thanks, Al," Matthew replied, leaning heavily against him. Ivan might have been right to suggest a shower, Matthew felt more than half asleep on his feet.

"Come on," Ivan murmured, prodding them gently from behind. "The food won't keep forever."

They made their way, slowly, stumbling, and giggling to the guest bathroom; none of them wanting to contend with stairs in that moment. There were caresses, murmured endearments, and more soft laughter. They went to bed a bit early that night, but none of them cared, too high on love and each other, and so, _so_ happy.


	32. Will You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love isn't always easy, but it's always worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, and welcome to the final installment of Make or Break! ^_^ It's been a long and fulfilling journey. I know this story has its strengths and its weaknesses, and I can't overstate how much I appreciate the support and feedback it has received. I know I'm moving forward as a better writer, and I hope this chapter puts a satisfying close to Matthew, Ivan, and Alfred's story. As always, whether this is your first time reading one of my works, or you are a return reader, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. 
> 
> Special thanks goes out to everyone who has left comments, kudos, bookmarked, and/or subscribed to my story! I love hearing back from my readers, it makes my day. <3 I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 32: Will You?

 

 

_Three Years Later…_

 

Alfred took a steadying breath; it did little to calm his nerves. His hands were shaking so much that he brought them together in front of his waist and started to wring them.

Damn it! This wasn't even the hardest part of his trip…or maybe it was. Maybe all the history and the heartbreak made this the most difficult, even if his second stop was more intimidating. But he couldn't turn back. He'd been waiting to do this for over a year; he'd forced himself to be patient so that he could do things the right way, and for the right reasons. Heart pounding, fingers trembling, he stepped forward and made himself knock on Francis' front door.

Blood rushed in Alfred's ears, and his breath stuttered in his chest even though he was _forcing_ himself to take, deep, even breaths. A shadow appeared in the etched glass of the door's window, the handle turned, and Francis stood before him, Arthur by his side.

"Bonjour, Alfred," Francis said, his voice warm and welcoming as he pulled Alfred into a hug. "How was your trip?"

"Long," Alfred replied with a tight, nervous smile.

"Come in, come in, you must be tired," Francis murmured, ushering Alfred inside his foyer.

"Hey, Artie," Alfred greeted, pulling Arthur into a hug as well.

Arthur, normally stiff and awkward when it came to physical affection, melted into the embrace, holding Alfred to him. "Hello, Alfred. How are you?"

"Good. I'm good. Fine. Great. Tired, but good," Alfred rambled, cursing his nervous tongue and rubbing the back of his neck in a vain attempt to sooth himself.

"Where are your bags?" Francis asked, glancing around outside the door, then quizzically at Alfred.

"I only brought one," Alfred explained, lifting his small overnight bag. "I've got another flight out later tonight."

Arthur and Francis shared a short, perplexed look. "That's a very short trip," Arthur ventured, while Francis shut the front door and moved to stand beside them. "Are you on your way to another meeting?"

Alfred nodded. "Yes, hopefully. If all goes well. I don't intend to stay long at my second destination either. Not that I don't love you guys, it's just…" Alfred sighed and raked a hand through his short hair. "I'm kind of on a mission here. I needed to see you, in person. I…" Alfred took another deep breath and reached out, taking Francis' and Arthur's hands in his. He met each of their gazes in turn, reading the confusion and concern. They didn't prod Alfred, or try to force answers out of him, they just waited, and for that Alfred was tremendously grateful. "I need to ask you something…"

 

~*~*~*~

 

The road to Iryna's house was long and winding. Alfred was caught between wanting it to go faster and being grateful for some time to think. Iryna was a sweet, kind-hearted woman; he knew he didn't have anything to fear from her… but he was still nervous. This _mattered_ ; this mattered more than anything else ever had, and he wanted to get it right.

Alfred spied the cottage and pulled into the packed earth driveway. Iryna lived in a simple white home with a thatched roof and bright turquoise shutters. One of the windows in the front had a delicate swath of flowers painted around the edge. It was a simple but welcoming impression. Iryna, like most personified nations had more than one home, but this one was reported to be her favorite. It was simple, cozy, and it reminded her of the past in a good way. It suited her.

The front door opened shortly after Alfred had stepped out of his rental car. Iryna had been expecting him, just as Francis and Arthur had been; Alfred had called ahead to made sure of that.

Iryna jogged over to meet him, beaming in welcome. She was dressed in a long tan coat, trimmed with fur, and a snug looking hat made of fuzzy yarn. She must have been waiting by the window for him.

"Alfred! Good to see you!" she cooed, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Alfred squeezed her back, chuckling breathlessly at her enthusiasm. "It's good to see you too, Iryna. How are you?"

"I've been well," she murmured, pulling back to look at him properly, a slight frown marring her features. "Ivan called me last night. He said you were away at a meeting with Francis and Arthur. I didn't mention I was expecting you, like you asked, but I don't like lying to my brother."

"Not technically a lie," Alfred assured her. "I _was_ just with Francis and Arthur. And I will tell him I was here too, but not yet. I want it to be a surprise."

"What are you planning?" Iryna asked. There was no suspicion in her eyes, only curiosity. She trusted him.

Alfred watched snow flurries landing slowly against the dark fabric of her hat, making it sparkle in the cold. The question he'd been harboring burned inside him, desperate to be free. He hoped she trusted him enough… God, they weren't even _inside_ yet, but he _had_ to ask her. Now. Here. Alfred held her gloved hands in his and breathed his question into the frigid air.

Iryna's face lit up with happiness and she squeezed him tightly to her, shaking with quiet tears. "Yes, yes of course." She sniffled into his shoulder. "That would be wonderful."

 _Wonderful_ …

It really would be, if everything went as he hoped it would.

"Thank you, Iryna," Alfred murmured, blinking back tears of his own. He got what he'd asked for. There was just one… well, two more things left to do.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The plane lurched as it began its final decent into Ottawa International Airport. Ivan and Matthew would be there to pick him up… he could hardly wait. They still made a point to spend time in each of their respective countries. Early on in their relationship they'd been together regularly, but not all the time. Now they were together as much as their individual schedules would allow. There could be no true cohabitation, but this felt close… really close.

It was technically Alfred's turn to host them all, but he'd requested they spend the winter holidays at Matthew's cabin in Ottawa. They all had homes, several of them, but the cabin in Ottawa felt different… it felt like it was _theirs._ Even Ivan had confided in him that the cabin felt more like home than almost anywhere else in the world.

Alfred fingered his pockets, cursing and blessing his pre-planning. He'd refused to take the final steps until after his trip. It was so, _so_ hard not to rush ahead, to reign in the feelings bubbling over inside of him, but he was determined to do this right. If he did, it would be the _last_ time…

 

~*~*~*~

 

Alfred's hands were shaking again. If he was this nervous now, he had no idea how he was going to get through the next few days… But he would find a way.

He was alone, walking into an old, familiar store. He nodded to the clerk as he entered. The clerk smiled and held up one finger, indicating Alfred should wait. They disappeared into the back room for a minute or two, then returned carrying a small rectangular box. "Here you are, Mr. Jones," they murmured, opening the box so that he could inspect his order.

Alfred's breath caught in his throat. This was really real, wasn't it? God, he _hoped_ so. "Thank you," he breathed, lifting his eyes to the clerk once more. "These are perfect."

 

~*~*~*~

 

Matthew caught his eye from the other side of the Christmas tree and smiled at him. Alfred smiled back, helplessly drawn in by the sparkle in Matthew's eyes. He hung his ornament and rounded the tree, pulling Matthew into his arms.

"Alfred!" Matthew protested, but he was still smiling, then giggling, then surrendering to the long slow kiss that followed.

"Is it time to put the rest of the decorations away?" Ivan asked, wry amusement evident in his voice.

Matthew and Alfred separated, reluctantly, and turned to look back at the tree. It sparkled with ornaments they had each contributed. "Yeah," Matthew breathed, leaning his head on Alfred's shoulder. "I think it's finished."

"It's beautiful," Alfred agreed, rubbing one hand lightly over Matthew's back, and reaching out for Ivan with the other. Ivan chuckled softly, but came, drawing Alfred into a deep, sensual kiss every bit as powerful as the one he'd just shared with Matthew.

"We should at least clean up the boxes first," Matthew sighed regretfully. "They'll be tripping hazards otherwise.

"On it," Alfred agreed, leaning up to press one last kiss to the tip of Ivan's nose.

Ivan scrunched up his nose, and lifted a hand to rub the tickle away. "You're awfully affectionate today."

"I'm always affectionate," Alfred declared, bending to pick up one of the boxes of decorations. "I love you." His gaze shifted to Matthew. "I love you both."

"I love you too," Matthew and Ivan chorused. They shared small, caring smiles before hefting their own boxes and following Alfred down the stairs into the basement.

Alfred's fingers were trembling by the time he set his box down. He focused on his breathing, trying to ground himself in the moment, but he couldn't hide the truth, not from two people who knew him so well.

Matthew turned and fixed him with wide, concerned eyes. "Alfred, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Alfred replied, much too quickly. Now Ivan was frowning at him and stepping closer.

"Alfred," Ivan echoed Matthew, placing his hand gently on Alfred's shoulder, which slumped slightly under the weight.

"I'm… I'm nervous," Alfred admitted, his voice soft and quiet.

"What's the matter?" Matthew asked, putting his hand on Alfred's other shoulder.

Alfred reached for their hands, squeezed their fingers tight. "Can we talk upstairs?"

Ivan and Matthew shared a worried look, then nodded. They walked in silence up the basement stairs, and back into the living room.

"Should we sit down?" Ivan asked, already walking towards the sofa.

"No!" Alfred cried. It was so sudden and so loud that Ivan and Matthew stopped in their tracks. "No, please," Alfred repeated, in a more subdued tone. "Here's fine."

"Alfred," Matthew began, his voice low and soothing, "You can tell us anything. You don't need to be afraid."

"I know," Alfred nodded. "Believe me, I've been telling myself that for _months_ now."

"Months?" Ivan asked, stepping close to Alfred. They were both very close, and entirely focused on Alfred.

"Well, weeks would be more accurate," Alfred explained, forcing himself to take a deep breath and meet each of their eyes in turn. He reached out and they were there in an instant, pressing their hands into his. "I love you."

"We love you too," they assured him, speaking in unison again.

An unexpected smile spread over Alfred's lips, and some of the tightness in his chest loosened. They loved him. They loved him, and it would be okay. "I never expected this," he began. "The three of us, together."

"I don't think any of us did," Matthew replied, glancing at Ivan, then back at Alfred.

"I have no regrets," Alfred rushed to assure them. "I've never been happier and I'm so, _so_ grateful." He swallowed and ran his tongue over his lips trying to restore moisture to an area that had suddenly become so dry. When he spoke again his voice was soft, but confident, full of the emotions he'd been trying so hard to control. "I don't want this to end, ever, and I hope you both feel the same way." Alfred released their hands and reached into his pocket, removing the rectangular box that had been pressing into his hip for the majority of the afternoon. He glanced at Matthew and Ivan, who were staring at him open mouthed, as if any response they'd been about to voice had died on their lips.

Slowly, carefully, Alfred lowered himself to one knee, opening the lid of the box to reveal three identical platinum rings. Two he'd had for a long time. The third he commissioned just after he returned from his trip. He hadn't asked permission, but he'd wanted the blessings of their families. "Will you marry me? Will you _both_ marry me?"

For a moment there was silence; a silence so thick and absolute it had weight, pressing down on Alfred's shoulders and his trembling heart. The silence was followed by rapid movement and noise. Ivan and Matthew reached out as one, tugging him to his feet. They pulled Alfred first this way, then that, pressing hard, fervent kisses to his lips, his cheeks, and his forehead.

"It's yes then?" Alfred wheezed, his breath oppressed by their tight embrace and his own overflowing emotions.

Ivan cupped Alfred's face and pressed a long, determined kiss to his lips. "Yes," he murmured as he pulled back. "Yes."

"Yes," Matthew echoed, throwing his arms around Alfred's neck and pressing his face into Alfred's shoulder. "I… I didn't expect you to ask again."

"I couldn't help myself," Alfred confessed. "I don't need anything official, but I wanted you both to know how serious I am about us." Alfred pressed a kiss into Matthew's temple and glanced up at Ivan.

"We should definitely have a ceremony," Ivan insisted. There was never any paperwork in personal marriages between personified nations, but there were often ceremonies. "At least a small one."

"Yes, definitely," Matthew agreed, reaching for the box Alfred still held. "Let me see."

Alfred held the box out and Matthew gasped softly in recognition. "Are these..?"

"The same ones," Alfred agreed, "With one new addition that is." He reached into the box and lifted the smallest band, holding it out to Matthew. "May I?"

Matthew nodded, holding his left hand out to Alfred so he could slide the band home. Matthew watched the ring glitter in the light of the Christmas tree for a moment, before reaching for the largest band. He looked to Ivan, who held out his left hand. With a trembling smile, Matthew slid the simple platinum band onto Ivan's ring finger. Ivan leaned down for a brief kiss before turning his gaze to Alfred. He lifted the final ring from the box and, holding Alfred's left hand gently in his, he pushed the band onto Alfred's ring finger until it nestled against the base where finger met palm.

It was a perfect fit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you again for coming on this journey with me, and the support and feedback that has been offered. Normally at the end of a story I would show a preview for my next work, but this time I have something different to share. I have been an avid supporter of fanfiction and a writer of fanfiction for many years. Now I am branching out and writing my own original works for the first time, with the intent to publish under the name Gayle Bruckner. 
> 
> I won't disappear from fanfiction, but the majority of my writing efforts will be focused on officially launching my career as an author. I still have my day job, for now, so I expect fanfiction will be few and far between from now on, but never gone forever. If all goes well I hope to post a Zombies Run! inspired advent story in December.
> 
> Make or Break struck a powerful cord with me, and I hope it did with some of you as well. While this work of fanfiction is complete, I think there is much more to tell about this story, and that energy has become the inspiration for not only my first original work, but my first trilogy. I must warn you that Make or Break, as it appears now, will only remain available online temporarily, no longer than December 31st, 2018. It is my hope that when I take Make or Break down, it will be shortly before I publish my debut novel.
> 
> Thank you all for your love, support, and feedback. I hope you have enjoyed reading Make or Break, as much as I have enjoyed sharing it!
> 
> -Dark3Star.


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